


A Winter Tale

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-30
Updated: 2008-05-25
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: During a blizzard, Hermione finds a frozen and unconscious Draco on her door step. What could be so important that he would risk certain death to see her? A cold, shivering Draco- whatever will Hermione do to warm him up?





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK. Thanks to my beta, Valady!

 

A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, LadyLynn!

It's winter. The kind of winter where the harsh wind blows the snow at amazing speed, making the drifts seem to touch the sky. You can hear the wind howling and the giant snowflakes hitting the windowpane, and it makes you very happy that you're inside the safety of your own home. They were calling it the worst winter on record and tonight, they predicted the storm of the century. It's the kind of winter that makes you want to curl up in your most comfortable armchair in front of your blasting fireplace, and read your favorite dog-eared book.

 

Hermione was doing this very thing when there was a loud knock on the front door. She wondered who in the world would it could be. It was after one in the morning, and no one in their right mind would venture out into a blizzard in the dead of night! As she got to her feet, grabbed the blanket from the back of the chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders, the pounding on the door became even more frantic.

 

"All right! I'm coming for Merlin's sake!" she paused at the door, thinking about what Harry would say to her just opening the door without knowing who was on the other side of it. It was a dangerous time in the Wizarding world right now, with every lover of the Dark Arts trying to fashion themselves as the new 'Dark Lord'. "Who is it?" she said, looking through the peephole. It was so dark out that all she could see was a shivering shadow of a figure on the doorstep, their cloak flapping violently in the wind. They didn't answer and she thought maybe they couldn't hear her over the storm.

 

Hermione knew common sense was telling her not to open the door, but the person standing there was in danger of dying from hypothermia. Did she want to live with the guilt of not helping someone who later could be found frozen to death in a snowdrift somewhere?

 

She slowly reached for the door handle and the stranger's sudden pounding erupted again, making her jump out of her skin. "Holy crap!" she said, her hand going to her throat where a scream was 'this close' from escaping. The blanket slipped from her shoulders and she just let it fall to the floor.

 

The pounding ceased and there was a loud thump. Hermione thought perhaps the stranger had collapsed against the door and was now on the verge of death. Grasping the handle with a shaky, but now determined hand, she wrenched the door open and the body fell onto her hallway floor with a thud. She forgot all about closing the door and really didn't notice the bitter cold or the snow that was now swirling around her slippers.

 

She looked down at the heavily clothed form with wide, frightened, eyes. Reaching over, she grabbed the person under the armpits and tried to drag them into the room. Whoever they were, they were very tall and very heavy. She struggled, pulling with all her might, until she got the stranger in front of the fireplace.

 

By now, Hermione could tell that this was a man who was lying on her living room carpet in a puddle of quickly melting snow. He was wearing a very thin but stylish black cloak, gray gloves, and black leather boots that were never meant to see a flake of snow, let alone a blizzard. His hood was up and a dark gray cashmere scarf was wrapped around his face, obscuring the man's features.

 

Hermione was beyond curious as to who this man was. Who would want to see her so badly that they braved certain death to see her? She quickly checked for a pulse and finding one that was weak, but still there, started to remove his soaked outer garments.

 

First, she pulled off his ridiculous boots and wet socks. His feet were bright red and his toes were totally frostbitten. She wondered what kind of idiot sacrificed warmth for style. She rubbed his freezing feet until she felt the circulation was moving in them again, and then moved on to his hands.

 

Peeling the glove off his left hand, she noticed he had very long slender fingers, with well-manicured nails. This man obviously had money; he reeked of wealth. Hermione tossed the soaked glove to the side and took off the other one. Her jaw fell open in shock, and she swiftly went to work taking off the man's scarf and hood. Her heart was racing and she hoped beyond hope that she was wrong about the man's identity.

 

As she laid the ruined cashmere scarf down and pulled the hood back, it felt as though all the air had suddenly gone from her lungs. There was no mistaking that ring, and there was definitely no mistaking that pale hair. "Malfoy!" she said softly. There was a sudden gust of wind and the still open front door slammed shut with a loud bang.


	2. 2

  
Author's notes: Draco trudges through the storm , remembering the last time he had talked to Hermione. There are two strange men following him, who are they and what do they want?  


* * *

Draco was trudging through the waist-high snow, and the sharp blistering wind was burning his face. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his head and leaned into the storm. Each step was getting harder and harder to take. He could barely feel his legs, and he was sure his fingers and toes had fallen off from frostbite.

 

More than once, he thought about just giving up; letting the storm swallow him up like a giant great white shark. He wondered how far behind him they were. He hoped that the darkness and the swirling snow were covering his tracks. The last thing he wanted was to lead them to her house. 

 

He knew this was the last place they would ever look for him, and although he was sure she would just tell him to go to hell and slam the door in his face, he was willing to try. He really had no other choice, did he? It was as a last resort that he was going to her, and he just hoped he made it there before he expired from the cold.

 

If anyone could help him, it was her. He took his numb hands out from under his armpits and blew into them. A sudden thought popped into his head and made him shiver even more. What if she wasn't home? What if he got there only to discover that she had decided to spend the night with Weasley? Even worse, what if he got there and she wasn't alone? What if Weasley was spending the night at HER house? Oh, God! What if they were 'doing it'?

 

He shoved the disgusting images from his mind, and tried to concentrate on just putting one foot in front of the other. She just had to be there! She just had to help him! Then again, why should want to help him? The last time he had talked to her, he had made her cry. She had broken his heart and he hadn't known how to handle it; lashing out with cruel words. 

 

He thought about that day. It had been winter, like it was now, just not in the middle of the night, and not during a blizzard. He had shown up, surprising her; after all, no one was supposed to know where she and her friends were hiding.

 

It was fairly simple to locate her and was shocked that The Dark Lord hadn't thought of it. Was he really shocked? No- he wasn't. Voldemort might have been powerful, but he had never really sat down and thought his plans through before acting. He was impulsive and stupid; led by anger, revenge, and his huge ego. All he had to do was ask Snape.

 

Snape knew where they were. He also knew Draco's well-kept secret. The secret he and Hermione had been keeping for a long time... since fifth year.

 

Although reluctant at first to tell him Hermione's location, Severus had given in when he saw how worried Draco was about her. After all, he had been in love once, hadn't he? Was still in love to tell the truth.

 

When he got to her tent, he was relieved to find her alone. Potter and Weasley were off in the forest, probably giving each other blowjobs. He found her inside, curled into a ball, sleeping. He had quietly walked over and just looked down at her.

 

She had looked very thin and extremely exhausted. Anger at Potter for not taking care of her rose up inside of him and threatened to explode. Obviously, she had not been eating properly and constantly being on the run was taking its toll on her body.

 

"Hermione?" he whispered, smoothing back her dirty, frizzy hair. Even in her disheveled state, he thought her the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth. "Love? Wake up."

 

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, confused. "Draco?" she asked, not believing what she was seeing. Maybe constant hunger was making her hallucinate. "Am I dreaming?"

 

He gave her a tender smile. "No, love. I'm really here."

 

She suddenly sat up, looking around the tent frantically. "What are you doing here?" she snapped. "You... they can't find you here!" She jumped off the couch and tried to shove him from the tent. "What were you thinking? What if Harry saw you, and where is he anyway?"

 

Draco halted her attempt at kicking him out into the cold. "What was I thinking?" he asked, incredulously. "I was worried about you! I had to see if you were all right!" He grabbed her shoulders. "I've missed you!"

 

"How did you find us?" was her response. "You weren't followed, were you?" She shook him off and stuck her head out of the tent, scanning the perimeter. "And how did you get inside? I put protective charms all around the tent!"

 

Draco just shrugged his shoulders. Hermione was not acting the way he thought she would. He was expecting her to throw herself into his waiting arms, kiss him passionately, and tell him over and over that she missed him terribly. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

 

Hermione stopped and looked at him like he was crazy. "Draco..." she said, shaking her head sadly.

 

"What?" he asked, not really wanting to hear her answer. He had a very bad feeling that what she was going to say was not going to make him happy.

 

"You have to go."

 

He took her by the shoulders again, resisting the temptation shake some sense into her. "I'm not going until I know that you're fine…that we're fine." He searched her face, wanting to see what was not there. "I... I love you."

 

Hermione, tears running down her cheeks, embraced him suddenly, crushing him with her surprisingly strong arms. 

 

He laid his head on hers and closed his eyes, loving the feeling of being so close to her again. He had missed her so much!

 

She pushed away slightly, and he took her face in his hands, kissing her lips gently. She leaned into him, and kissed him deeply, passionately, wanting the moment to last forever. There was nothing she could do, she was going to break his heart, and although she did love him, she knew it was for the best. 

 

If he could find her this easily, then so could Voldemort. Loving Draco right now was dangerous and she could not afford to let her feelings for this man get in the way of what she and Harry must do.

 

"Draco..." she said, releasing his lips reluctantly, "I think we need to end our relationship."

 

Draco almost literally staggered backward at her announcement. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him! The one thing that kept him from just killing himself to escape the mess his family was in. "What?" he asked, feeling his stomach flip over.

 

"I..." Hermione was trying desperately to find the right words. What she was doing made no sense to her heart, but her head told her it must be done to keep him, and everyone else involved, safe. Maybe if they all got out of this alive, they would be able to pick up where they left off. "We can't do this," she said, motioning with her hand to them both. "We're kidding ourselves that this could ever work."

 

Draco was on the verge of crying, and there was no way he wanted her to see that happen. He smothered down the loving, caring part of himself and let the anger roll to the front instead. He was good at that, turning his emotions off and on, like a light switch. It had saved him more than once. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

 

Hermione blinked at his use of the 'f' word. "Us," she said, knowing he was going to explode. "I think it's best that we go our separate ways."

 

Draco's face contorted with anger. "There are two people in this relationship, Granger! You might think it best, but I don't!" He kicked a book across the tent. "It's Weasley, right?" he asked, searching for some explanation that made sense. "You're dumping me for him, aren't you?"

 

Hermione was petrified by Draco's fierce anger. She had been witness to it before and it was something she always tried to avoid at all costs. "Draco, please! Listen to reason!" she begged. "I... Harry and I have something we have to do! I can't concentrate on the task if I'm constantly worried about you!"

 

"Worried about me? What's there to worry about, Hermione?" Draco said with a sarcastic snap. "I'm comfy and cozy in my own home surrounded by my mum and dad! So what if once in a while, He Who Must Not Be Named kills a Muggle in the dining room, or forces me to Crucio another Death Eater who has pissed him off!" He glared at her, his chest heaving. "I don't care about any of that! All I care about is you!"

 

Hermione waited for his outburst to end and then said calmly, "Don't you see? Don't you understand that you, loving me, puts both of us in danger? What if You Know Who finds out about us? Have you even thought about that?" She walked over to him, took his hands, and looked into his sad eyes. "He might kill you, or force you to kill me. I'm doing this because I care about you too much to let that happen. We need to break it off. It's the right thing to do."

 

Draco was silent, he heard her words, but they made no sense. He loved her and she loved him. What else mattered? "What if I say no?"

 

Hermione frowned. "You have no choice."

 

Draco threw her hands away, almost knocking her over in the process. "And they accuse me of being a fucking coward!" he said, his grey eyes positively crackling with fury. "What I want doesn't matter to you, does it?" He chuckled, sounding slightly crazy.

 

Hermione was shaking, she was so afraid. "Draco, you act as if you really thought this relationship was going to go somewhere." She knew the time had come to be rude, to lie her ass off, and make him so angry that he would leave. She prayed that someday he would forgive her. "I can't hide it anymore! I'm tired of it all and I just want to be free!" She paused for effect. "I don't love you, I never have. I'm... I'm in love with Ron."

 

All the blood drained from Draco's face and he clenched his hands into fists. "You are a fucking bitch, Granger and I never, EVER want to see you again!"

 

He pushed past her and out into the winter air. He was gone just like that, and Hermione was left standing there, tears streaming down her face.

 

***

 

The next time he laid eyes on her, she was a prisoner in his home. He was forced to look at her, and stand by while his insane aunt almost killed her. It was almost more than he could bear. What choice did he have though? He was surrounded by The Dark Lord’s faithful followers. Her screams still echoed through his mind in the dark of night, when he lie awake, thinking about his so-called life.

 

At least she had escaped unharmed. Unlike him, who had seen and felt the wrath of the Dark Lord when he found out Potter and his friends had escaped yet again. He had few regrets in his life and one of them was that he was too much of a pussy to help the woman he loved while she was being tortured.

 

***

 

After the war, they had gone their separate ways. She to the Ministry and into the arms of Weasley, and he into the world of crime, corruption, and the Dark Arts. He wanted to forget her, to get as far away from those painful memories as he could, and that's why he became mixed up in what he did. He had never been very good at making the right choices and now he was going to pay the price for it. He just hoped they weren't on his trail, the last thing he wanted to do was put the woman he still loved in the path of danger.

 

"Fuck!" he said as a sudden gust of bitter, cold, wind tore through his thin cloak. In the distance, through the blinding snow and darkness, he could see the faint glow of her porch light. "Almost there," he chanted, as he made his way slowly through the drifts. His legs felt like lead and he had zero energy. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of seeing her once again, of seeing her beautiful eyes, her soft pink lips, and her bushy unruly hair.

 

Two houses away, he could no longer feel his body from the waist down and he fell, landing face first in the snow. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the black snow-filled sky. He knew if he closed his eyes, he would fall to sleep and never wake up. It was so tempting to let it happen.

 

Turning over, he got to his knees, then slowly to his feet. He pushed onward, keeping his eyes on the light glowing from her house. Stumbling up her front steps, he knocked, not sure how hard, because he had no feeling left in his hands. His vision was slowly dimming and he frantically pounded on the door, praying for her to open it. Suddenly, the world flickered and went out. 

 

***

 

Two men stood across the street, watching as Hermione opened the front door and pulled Draco inside. They glanced at each other, smiling wickedly, and then with a loud crack, unheard over the storm, they disappeared.


	3. 3

  
Author's notes: Hermione goes through Drac's pockets and finds something very mysterious.  


* * *

Hermione sat there in utter disbelief. She wondered what could have happened to bring Draco Malfoy of all people to her house in the middle of the worst storm in history. 'Why didn't you just Apparate?' she said to herself, stroking back his wet locks from his forehead. Possible scenarios of reasons flashed through her mind, none of them making any sense. Obviously he was in trouble, or he wouldn't have risked his life. 

 

She had heard various rumors during the past two years of his alleged crimes, but didn't really put much stock in what everyone was saying. He and his family were infamous in the Wizarding world and people loved to talk about them. They were the only surviving Death Eaters, so of course everyone was beyond curious about them.

 

Coming suddenly out of her drifting thoughts, she remembered that he was soaked and freezing and in need of warm, dry, clothes. She took his limp arms out of the cloak sleeves and left it underneath him. He was wearing a very tasteful, thin, and extremely wet, set of robes, and Hermione was shocked to discover that he was wearing Muggle clothing underneath them. Did this mean he had planned to show up at her house, that it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing? 

 

She sat him up, struggling to support his dead weight, and pulled the dripping scarlet-colored turtleneck over his head. Working fast, so that her eyes didn’t linger for too long on his nakedness, she took off everything but his underwear and covered him with two warm quilts, putting a soft, fluffy, pillow under his head. She wondered if perhaps she should Levitate him to the bed, but decided he needed to be in front of the fire and its warmth. After tucking the quilts up under his chin, she gazed at him some more and found herself wanting to lean in and kiss his cold lips.

 

Getting up before her mouth did what her brain was screaming at her not to do, she walked over to the fireplace to see if it needed tending, which it did. She stoked the fire, her mind drifting again. This time, however, she wasn't thinking about why he was here, she was thinking about his scrumptious body and the last time she had seen it. Their lovemaking had been heated and passionate, both trying so hard to fill some empty void that existed in their souls. She closed her eyes, thinking about the way it had felt.

 

All the moaning, sweating, thrusting, licking, and sucking. The way he knew exactly what she needed without her having to say a single word. The way his kisses made her melt in her knickers. His fingers that knew every inch of her body, and could make her scream with pleasure in the dark. He was perfection in bed…something Ron wasn’t.

 

'What the hell am I doing?' she suddenly thought. 'Comparing Draco with Ron!' She was disgusted with herself. 'Draco is the past, and Ron is the future. So what if your boyfriend pales in comparison with the awesome sex machine that is Draco Malfoy?' if you keep these as " then you need to fix the first on to it, as well as her thoughts from before and after.

 

She looked down at him with blatant longing written all over her face, and realised that his cloak was still lying under him, soaked, and probably the reason he was still shivering.

 

Putting her arm under his neck and lifting him once more, she pulled it halfway out from under him and rolled him a bit to get the rest of it free. Laying his head gently back down on the pillow, she picked up the dripping cloak and was surprised to find it heavier on one side than the other; a lot heavier.

 

'What the hell?' she thought, feeling the inside pocket. There was definitely something hard there, and as she went to reach inside she stopped, wondering if it was alright for her to go searching through his pockets. Looking down to see if he was still asleep, she decided that it couldn't hurt. Maybe it was something that could help her figure out what he was doing here.

 

Her hand was shaking as her fingers slid into the silk lining of the pocket and she gasped loudly as she pulled its contents out and looked at it. 'What the hell?' she thought again. It was wrapped in many layers of cloth and she could feel heat pulsating through the material, entering her fingers, and making them feel almost numb. 

 

Tossing the cloak aside, she started to unravel it, the thing inside growing hotter and hotter as she removed layer after layer. Finally, it was free, and Hermione stared down at the strange object in her hand. It was round and about the size of a baseball, clear like glass and very hot. As she lifted it to eye level, she noticed that inside the glass ball there arose swirling light blue streaks and tiny speckles of what looked like silver glitter. The blue swirls seemed to float as if in water, undulating and making strange shapes.

 

Hermione found herself tightening her hand over the glass and bringing it closer to her face as the shapes took on form. Suddenly, the blue turned very dark, almost black, and the glitter looked like millions of tiny snowflakes. Images appeared from the darkness, looking like pale tiny ghosts hovering in a snowstorm. There was her mum and dad, crying and holding one another. It vanished back into the swirling snow almost as soon as it appeared.

 

A vision of Ron, looking very distraught, almost in anguish, and then it was gone. Now she saw herself and Draco making love. It faded away, and then she saw two strange men running through the snow.

 

The images were getting faster and faster and the object was getting hotter and hotter. Harry yelling, Ron and Draco dueling, and then herself falling into the snow, covered in blood. Hermione screamed as a blinding light flashed from the glass ball and it became so hot it felt as though her fingers had burst into fire.

 

She dropped it, her heart leaping, knowing it was going to shatter as soon as it hit the floor. Instead, it was caught by the quick reflexes of Draco, who had managed to put his hand out just in time.

 

She looked down at him, eyes wide at her injured hand, which was red and throbbing. He was on his side, staring at the now clear glass ball as if he both feared it and cherished it.

 

"Wh... what is that?" Hermione said shakily. She felt dizzy and a little disoriented. She suddenly felt very tired, like all her energy had been sucked right out of her.

 

Draco sat up, picked up the discarded strips of cloth, and began to wrap it tightly. "You should be more careful, Granger," he was speaking very slowly, almost as if in a trance.

 

Hermione knelt down in front of him and lifted his chin. His eyes were glazed and it was a second before he registered that she was even looking at him. "Draco," she said, feeling a stab of fear. There was something wrong with him, and she wasn't too sure she wanted to know what it was. "What is that thing?"

 

He looked right into her eyes and smiled. “The Heart of Winter."


	4. 4

  
Author's notes: Draco tries to get frisky, Hermione has another brush with the 'orb' and Draco explains where it came from.  


* * *

"The what?" Hermione asked, perplexed. She thought she had heard that name somewhere before, but couldn't remember exactly where.

 

"The Heart of Winter," Draco answered, in a dreamy voice. He was cradling the covered glass ball as if he was afraid she would snatch it away at any moment. "It's mine. You can't have it, but I don't blame you for trying you take it," he said, looking at her with a lopsided grin.

 

Clearly, he was not in his right mind. Maybe the cold had affected his brain or something. As she looked back at him, he lowered his eyes, hugged the object, and then tucked it safely under the pillow. "Draco," she said, laying her hand gently on his shoulder.

 

"Hmm?" he said, turning back towards her, his hand placed protectively on the pillow. He looked at it longingly and then turned back around. He was still grinning at her and it was unnerving how his eyes looked so blank. It was like he was sleepwalking or something. Creepy to say the least.

 

"Draco, what are you doing here?"

 

"Doing here?" he asked, confused. "Where is here?" He glanced around the room, taking in the over-loaded bookshelves, the expensive but comfortable furniture, and the many pictures of Hermione and Ron Weasley that were hanging on the walls and sitting on the end tables. "I know! I've died and gone to hell where I'll be forced to sit here freezing my balls off while staring at hideous pictures of the fucking man that stole the only woman I've ever loved. I just don't understand how you can love that prick more than me. Yes, I'm in hell."

 

Hermione's brow shot up. "I was hoping the blizzard had frozen your damn mouth shut forever, but I see I wasn't so lucky," she watched as the dazed look in his eyes faded and he seemed to snap back to reality. He lifted his hand from the pillow, and she flinched when she felt his freezing fingers caress her cheek.

 

"Or maybe, I've died and gone to heaven." He leaned forward, burying his face into her hair, and kissing her warm neck. She smelled exactly how he remembered, like soap with a hint of something he had never been able to identify. That elusive smell had haunted his dreams every night, and caused him to almost weep with want.

 

He heard her sigh softly as his cold lips brushed against the warm, tender flesh of her neck. He could feel her pulse quicken as she tilted her head back, allowing him better access. The only sound was the howling wind outside and the beating of their hearts. Suddenly, he was pushed away roughly and she was glaring at him, her eyes wild with anger, her face pink with fading desire.

 

"How dare you!" Hermione said, jumping to her feet. "I take you in when you're on the verge of freezing to death and you re-pay me by trying to get into my knickers!"

 

Draco raised one eyebrow, amused. "Well, you WERE making it quite easy for me to do, weren't you? A few more seconds and I do believe I would have succeeded."

 

Hermione's mouth snapped shut, and she stared down at his smirking face. He was right of course, what could she say in defense?

 

"What's that? No snappy comeback? No cries of 'You prat! I hate you and wish you would die?'" He shook his head in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue. "What happened to that snarky, hot-blooded woman I used to know?"

 

"I do hate you, and I should throw your ass back out into the cold…," she trailed off as she caught sight of the front window. "Oh my God!" she said, rushing across the room.

 

"What?" Draco asked, his first thought being that those crazy fanatics had somehow found him. "Is someone there?" He got to his feet, wrapping the quilt tightly around his naked body.

 

"I have never seen anything like it," Hermione said, her tone was one of awe and disbelief. "Look at this!" she said.

 

Draco walked over, a little frightened of what he would see. He stopped behind Hermione and looked over her shoulder. "Wow. Now THAT is one hell of a storm."

 

It was completely black outside, except for the bolts of lightning that were streaking across the sky. The snow so heavy that the drift was now halfway up the house, and the wind so fierce that the windows were rattling. As they stood there, a rumble of thunder shook the little house and they both jumped, clutching each other tightly.

 

Hermione slowly became aware that Draco was pressed up against her, the quilt wrapped around them both, her head on his cold, bare chest. It felt so wonderful, so right, that she was momentarily caught off guard by her traitorous feelings. She wanted to stay this way, snug and in the arms of the one she truly loved. Maybe he did as well, he was shaking with anticipation, wasn't he?

 

"What's that noise?" she said, hearing some sort of clicking. Lifting her head, she saw that it was his teeth chattering. "My God, you're freezing!" she pulled herself away, took hand, and led him across the room to the stairs. "We need to get you warm."

 

"Where are you taking me?" Draco asked, looking up the dark stairwell with interest.

"To my bedroom."

 

"Why, Hermione! You little vixen!" Draco said with a sexy smirk.

 

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair. "Not to you know... do anything!" she said, slapping him on the arm. "You need a warm bath and some dry clothes."

 

"Will you be bathing me and dressing me?" He gave a fake cough. "I'm feeling a little under the weather, and I don't think I have the energy to do it myself," he coughed again, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

 

"I won't be putting on your socks for you, or washing your parts..." Visions of herself rubbing silky body wash over Draco's rock hard cock, slowly, methodically, while he moaned popped into her head, and refused to leave. She was walking up the steps next to him, not paying the least bit of attention to where she was going, and she missed a step, falling on her face.

 

"Granger, I have a feeling you are having a little difficulty concentrating," Draco said, teasingly. "Perhaps if you stop fantasizing about having bathtub sex with me, you would have fewer accidents." He took her arm and helped her up.

 

Hermione shook him off angrily. She was embarrassed and more than a little surprised that he had know what she was thinking about. Trying to play it off, she said, "As if I would ever think about having sex with you! Been there. Done that. Over it." She turned away from his knowing smile and stomped the rest of the way up the stairs.

 

"If you say so," Draco said under his breath, chuckling.

 

***

 

She filled the tub with warm water, while he looked though the few items of Ron's clothing that were hanging in her closet. She could hear Draco groaning and complaining about his limited choices.

 

"Argh! Weasley has absolutely no fashion sense, does he? Just look at this!" Draco held up a green and yellow plaid shirt with two fingers, frowning. "Does he actually walk around wearing this?" He flung it to the floor. "And what in the name of Merlin's shriveled balls is this supposed to be?"

 

"That is a Weasley jumper," she said from the doorway. "Molly made it herself." She glared at him, daring him to say anything bad about Mrs. Weasley. "She makes him one every year." 

 

"Lucky man!" Draco said sarcastically, and tossed the red monstrosity into the growing mound of discarded garments. "Well, I guess I'll have to settle for walking around in my birthday suit, because I'm not finding any of these so called articles of clothing to my taste."

 

"You are NOT walking around here bare-assed!" Hermione said, going back inside the bathroom and turning the taps off.

 

"Why not? Afraid you won't be able to handle it?" He threw off the quilt and stood there in all his naked glory, and flexed his muscles. 

 

"What the hell are you supposed to be doing?" she asked, walking back into the room, trying not to laugh.

 

"Posing," he said, taking up a stance he had once seen on a Greek statue.

 

"For what? A poster warning about the effects that inbreeding can have on a child, or are you demonstrating how NOT to turn a woman on?"

 

"Hardy har, har, Granger. Your wit astounds me sometimes." He pushed past her, went into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

 

***

 

Hermione giggled all the way into the kitchen, where she went to work fixing tea and chicken soup. Her mind kept wandering back to the way he looked standing there naked. How she wished she had had the courage to walk up to him, drop to her knees, and take his cock in her mouth like she wanted to!

 

She had been deceiving herself these past two years thinking that she no longer loved him. Being around him for only a few hours had shown her that she was nowhere near over him. He was walking, talking, temptation; and she really didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to control herself. 

 

She thought of Ron for a fleeting second, but quickly shoved his face from her mind, feeling extremely guilty. She really did think she had come to love him, but now that Draco was here, she realized that the love she felt for Ron was just a sham.

 

What had happened to bring him once more into her life? Was it fate that brought him here, or was it just the result of some cosmic joke? 'Here, Hermione! Draco is on your doorstep! Fall in love with him again, dump Ron, ruin your life, and then when he leaves you, you'll have nothing!'

 

Would she really consider getting involved with Draco again? She and Ron were very happy together, and Ginny let slip that he was planning to ask her to marry him soon. Ron had a steady job; he was very kind, trustworthy, and loyal. Draco on the other hand, had been linked to criminal activities, couldn't be trusted as far as she could throw him, was pompous, inconsiderate, and loyal to no one but himself.

 

There was something else though. Some sort of undeniable spark, some intense passion that she and Draco had…still have, that she had never come close to feeling with Ron. 

She picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the soup. Watching it swirl around in the pan reminded her of the swirls of color in that weird crystal ball-thingy that Draco had. What the hell was that anyway and where did he get it from? He had called it the Heart of Winter, and there was still something so familiar about that name.

 

The kettle was whistling and she removed it from the burner. Where had she heard that name before? It was something to do with some myth or other, she crinkled her brow, trying with all her might to remember. 

 

After ladling the soup into bowls and setting out some bread and butter, she decided that Draco was taking too long, and went to see what the problem might be. Leaving the kitchen and walking through the living room towards the stairs, she suddenly heard something…something like a million voices whispering at the same time. From the floor, under the pillow, she saw a dim glow arise, and as she watched, it grew brighter and brighter, until it was blinding. 

 

The humming, whispering, became louder, and she distinctly heard a woman's voice saying, 'Come to me. I can show you everything you've ever wanted to know. Hold me, love me, and I will grant your every wish.'

 

Hermione found herself walking towards the light as if in a trance. She saw herself as if out of her body, watching from a distance, as she crouched down and slipped the glass ball out from under the pillow. Unwrapping it and holding it up to her face, she again saw the swirls, the snow, and then images started immerging from the blackness. She saw herself lying on a bed crying. There was a brief flash of Draco putting a star on the top of a Christmas tree, and then the images were coming so fast that she couldn't make them out.

 

"Hermione!" Draco shouted, on the verge of panic.

 

Hermione tried to tear her eyes away from it. She knew he wanted her to put the orb down, but it seemed to be stuck to her hands. It was vibrating, and now the colors were quickly turning from dark blue to black and now to a deep blood red. It was so pretty that she felt she could hold it and stare into it forever. It was whispering to her that it loved her that she was beautiful, and then suddenly, it was ripped from her grasp and the light and whispering came to an abrupt halt.

 

She turned on him in a fury. "Why the hell did you do that, you asshole!"

 

Draco grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up, shaking her violently. "Listen to me! This thing is very dangerous and I don't want you ever touching it again, do you hear me?" He was gripping her arm so tightly that his nails were leaving marks.

 

Hermione wanted nothing more than to murder him, take the glass object back, and run away with it. "It wanted me to touch it! It said it loved me!" She twisted out of his grip and stood there, chest heaving, eyes full of hatred. "It wants ME, so give it back!" She lunged and Draco grabbed her around her waist in a bear hug, squeezing the breath from her body. "It's mine! Give it to me!"

 

Draco tightened his embrace and Hermione passed out.

 

***

 

When she came to, she was lying on the sofa with her head in Draco's lap. She felt totally drained of energy, and believed she could sleep for a week. "What happened?"

 

"You went stark raving mad is what happened!" Draco said, frowning. "For a second there, I thought you were going to kill me, just to get your hands on that damn thing!"

 

She sat up, looking around for it but the glass orb was nowhere to be seen. "Where is it?"

 

"In a safe place."

 

Hermione slowly lay back down and stared at the ceiling. It all seemed like a bad dream. She had never felt so wonderful and so damn scared at the same time. "What IS that thing, Malfoy? What does it do, and where did it come from?"

 

"I told you what it was. As for where it came from, I don't know. All I know is that the men I stole it from are looking for me and if I'm not mistaken, want to cut my body into a million pieces before taking back what belongs to them."

 

"You stole it?" she asked with disgust. "Why?"

 

"Because that's what I do, Hermione. I steal treasure and sell it to the highest bidder."

 

"That thing is treasure?" Hermione asked.

 

"Yes. It's one of the most valuable treasures in existence."

 

"Why? What does it do?"

 

"Here, let me show you," Draco said, taking his wand from the pocket of his still wet cloak that lay on the floor. He tried to cast a few spells, utter a couple of enchantments, but nothing happened.

 

"I don't understand," Hermione said, perplexed.

 

"The Heart of Winter can do many things. It can tell you the future, let you see into the hearts and minds of your friends and enemies, or help you to make important decisions, but..." He hesitated.

 

"But what?"

 

Draco sat back down with a troubled sigh. "The more you use it, the more you come to depend on it, to love and need it. You don't even notice that it's slowly sucking all the magic from your body and leaving you defenseless."

 

Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. "You can't do magic?"

 

"No," he said sadly. "That's why I had to walk to your house in this storm, I'm not able to Apparate anymore." He suddenly stood and walked over to the window. The snowdrift was now almost covering the entire window. "There is something else I've noticed," he said, turning back around. "Every time you and I have used it, this storm has gotten worse."


	5. 5

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione share more than chicken soup...  


* * *

They sat at the kitchen table, bowls of steaming chicken soup in front of them, staring at each other. It was quite awkward, seeing as neither had ever eaten at the same table as the other. 

Draco thought it weird that he had had his tongue down her throat and his dick inside of her more times, than he could remember, but never once did they even share a pack of Droobles gum. What if the way he ate disgusted her? He lifted the peppershaker, tipped it, and then shook it vigorously.

Hermione slowly lowered her eyes and lifted her spoon. She was scared to death that she was going to slurp or dribble down her front. She paused, spoon hovering over the yellow liquid and watched opened mouthed as Draco seasoned his dinner. "Like a little chicken soup with your pepper?" she asked, amused.

Draco seemed to realize what he was doing, and was so embarrassed that he dropped the shaker into the soup, sending splatters onto the table. "Sorry," he said, wiping it up with his napkin. "I do like a lot of spice." He looked into his black speckled bowl, thinking that there was way too much pepper, and he would never be able to eat it. "The more the better," he said, putting a spoonful into his mouth, trying to play it off as though it wasn't as hot as hell. He immediately took a sip of his ice water.

Hermione laughed in her mind. The thought of Draco Malfoy being nervous and embarrassed was downright hilarious! "So, I see you found an outfit to wear?" she asked, trying to get the noodles into her mouth without getting broth on her chin.

"If you can call this an outfit," Draco mused. "This shirt is a polyester nightmare. He fingered the cheap dark blue material, his lips curled with distaste. Oh, and these pants are a little too tight in the crotch area, but seeing as Weasley has no balls or penis to speak of, that doesn't surprise me..."

Hermione choked on a chunk of chicken, and went into a coughing spasm.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, leaping to his feet and handing her his glass of water. She took a sip and was still red-faced and coughing, so he started to pound her on the back. "I walked all this way in a damn blizzard, risked my life to see you, and you're going to re-pay me by asphyxiating on a piece of fowl?"

Hermione started to laugh, but ended up choking even more. Draco lifted her up out of her chair and did the Heimlich maneuver. A huge chunk of chicken flew from her mouth and landed on the kitchen floor with a plop. Crookshanks came darting from nowhere and started to gobble it up.

"Fucking ew!" Draco said under his breath. "Disgusting cat." He handed Hermione the glass again and she took in, sinking once again into her chair. 

"Thank you," she managed to say in a strangled voice. "It's just you talking about Ron's... Ron's..."

"Penis size? Or lack thereof?" Draco smirked at her. "Yes, well, that was pretty funny."

She coughed into her hand and then took a sip of water, clearing her throat. "Thanks again for… um your help."

"No problem," Draco said, taking his seat. He watched her for any signs of renewed choking, and when he was satisfied that she was fine, he asked her a question. "So, speaking of Weasley, where is the bastard?"

Hermione frowned at him. "If you were wanting a reunion with your old best mate, you're out of luck." She stood, picked up their uneaten soup, and put the bowls into the sink. "He and Harry are out of town until January. Some sort of Auror convention, or something stupid like that." She turned and leaned on the sink.

"What luck to find you utterly alone and helpless!" Draco said, winking.

"You mean you had no idea I was alone when you set out? You came here even though Ron might have been here?"

"I knew Weasley wouldn't be here." Draco sat back in his chair, his arms behind his head, and his feet crossed. He was studying her, trying to figure out if his presence in her home was exciting her or creeping her out. He thought it the former.

"How would you know that? The convention was last minute; he just left yesterday." She kept glancing at his argyle socks, because she was afraid that if she looked at him in the face, she wouldn't want to stop. She noticed that it was a pair she had gotten Ron last Christmas. They were like new because he said argyle was for old men and homosexuals. Draco was neither and it showed just how much Ron knew about fashion.

"You see, Hermione," Draco said, pulling the orb from his pocket and placing it on the table. It was now wrapped in a thick white towel, but the pulsing light was still visible through the material. "When I told you that this Heart of Winter SHOWED you many things, I wasn't telling the entire truth." He took off the towel, his hand hovering over it, and it immediately started to make images.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desire for the snuggly, warm glass orb on the table. She wanted so badly to hold it again, to look into its snowy swirls. She walked over to her chair and slowly set herself down, never taking her eyes off the object that was now emitting a blue-colored light. She could see shadows, but none that were clear enough to decipher.

"This wonderful treasure, if given enough of your magic, can MAKE your wishes and desires come true." He placed his fingertips on the smooth surface and closed his eyes. His face lit up with a devious smile as the orb grew very bright under his touch. "I desired to see you again, and wished that when I finally got to your house, that you would be alone. I saw everything in here, and then the orb made it come true." He looked at her through his thick blond lashes, his grey eyes glinting with mystery. "I'll show you."

Hermione, brow furrowed in confusion, looked from Draco's euphoric face to the orb, and gasped. There, in the drifting snowflakes and the swirls of pale blue, she saw herself leaning over the kitchen table and kissing Draco. They were locked in what she could only describe as passion.

Her eyes drifted slowly up and she saw that he was looking her. There was a funny feeling in her body, something like the tingling sensation you get when you look over a cliff. It was dangerous and exciting. 

She heard the sound of her chair scraping the floor as she moved it, felt her body standing, and bending over the table, but was helpless to stop it. She was also aware that perhaps this was something she wanted to happen, something she had been longing for in her heart and her dreams. Maybe the orb didn't have to try so hard to make her do something she wanted to do; after all, it was something she longed for as much as Draco did.

Their lips came closer, and now he was standing and leaning in as well, his fingers still on the glass. She could smell him, all clean with that hint of something else that was purely Draco. It made her heart skip a beat, not to mention it made her knickers wet with desire. She saw his hand come up as if in slow motion and felt his light touch as he caressed her cheek. 

Suddenly, she was grasping the glass orb with one hand, and holding his face with the other, kissing him with desperation. Bright, glittery light shot from the glass ball, the temperature in the house plummeted, and something resembling snowflakes started falling out of thin air.

Draco tangled his free fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss. Never before in his life had he ever felt what he was feeling. It was if the whole world had disappeared and it was just the two of them, floating in an endless, warm abyss of passion and lust. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. 

Hermione and Draco let go of the Heart of Winter together, at the same time breaking the kiss. The light faded and they stood, bent over the table, their foreheads pressed together, gasping for air, and clutching each other.

"That was amazing," Hermione said, noticing she could see her breath. She looked up and a few snowflakes landed on her face, melting as soon as they touched her hot skin. The snow faded and the house quickly grew warm again. "Draco, where did you say you got this?" she asked, looking down at the orb, which was now as clear as a crystal ball.

Draco reluctantly released Hermione. "It's a long story, Hermione. Maybe after a good night’s rest..."

Hermione frowned, looking angry. "You show up here in the middle of night, during a blizzard carrying some sort of freaky magical object that can tell the future and make your wildest dreams come true. Oh, and suck the magic from you leaving you helpless and dependant on Muggles for the rest of your life, and you expect me to just go to bed and talk about it in the morning?" Her chest was heaving, having said everything in one breath. "I don't think so, Draco Malfoy. You're going to tell me exactly how you found out about this, how you stole it, and who those people are that are after you!"

Draco's lips came together in a thin line. He really didn't want to talk about this anymore tonight. Hermione was so damn bull-headed that she wouldn't let him get a moments peace until he told her what she wanted to know! He relented deciding that she did deserve to know what he had gotten her involved in. "Perhaps you could make some tea, and we can sit by the fire, and I'll tell you everything?"   
"That would be wonderful," she said brightly, and turned to make the tea while Draco picked up the Heart of Winter and made his way into the living room.

He couldn't resist walking over to the window, even though he was afraid of what he would find. They had both touched the orb at the same time and if he was right, the storm had probably intensified. He swept back the curtain and gasped. He saw nothing but white; it covered the entire window. "Holy shit!" he said under his breath. He ran to the front door and threw it open, meeting a solid wall of snow. 

"Oh, my God!" Hermione said from behind him, almost dropping the tea tray.

"Well, it looks like we're not going anywhere for a long time, Granger. Shall we have a seat then?" He slammed the door and smiled at her. "It seems that our passion for one another has caused quite an upheaval in the weather system."

She followed him to the sofa as if in a daze. After pouring him a cup of tea, adding two sugars as he requested, and handing it to him, she sat back, tucking her legs under her. "Now tell me everything. How did this all start?" She sipped her tea with lemon, burning the roof of her mouth.

"Well," Draco said, getting comfortable by turning sideways and putting his feet on her lap. "This bloke walked into the pub..." 

Hermione snorted laughter, spilling a dribble of hot, scalding liquid down the front of her sweater. She wiped it off with her hand, still laughing.

"What the bloody hell is so damn funny?" Draco asked, red-faced with anger.

Hermione waved her hand in the air. "It's just that you said 'this bloke walked into the pub'..."

"Yeah, and why is that so funny?"

"Because!" she said, looking at him with amusement dancing in her eyes. "A million Muggle jokes start that way! For example:

“A bloke walks into a bar and orders one shot. Then he looks into his shirt pocket and orders another shot. After he finishes, he looks into his shirt pocket again and orders another shot. The bartender is curious and asks him 'every time you order a shot, you look in your shirt pocket. Why?' The man replies, 'I have a picture of my wife in my pocket and when she starts to look good, I go home!'"

Draco was speechless.

"Well, wasn't that funny?" she asked, waiting for him to bust out in hysterics. When he did nothing but stare at her like she was a moron, she became defensive. "You have no sense of humor! Do you ever laugh at jokes?"

"Of course I do! When they're funny."

Hermione started to get up. She was clearly upset and wanted to get away from him. "You're such a jackass!"

"Hold on! Hold on!" Draco said, grabbing her arm. "I'm sorry," he said, now laughing at her attempts to flee the situation. "Okay, I admit the joke was a little funny. Will you sit back down now?" He looked up at her with sad puppy dog eyes, his lip pouting. "Please?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation and plopped back down on the sofa. "Don't expect me to ever tell you a joke again."

"I don't think you'll ever have to worry about me asking you to, Granger." He smirked at her. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes! I was sitting in a pub..."


	6. 6

  
Author's notes: How did Draco become a Treasue Hunter, and how did he manage to steal the Heart of Winter?  


* * *

Draco opened the door to the pub, and struggled to close it against the blustery wind. Out of breath, and his extremities almost surely frostbitten, he strode across the dimly lit, sparsely populated room and took a table by the fire.

Why he even chose this career was beyond him. It's not like he needed the money or anything. He still had his own fortune, but it would not fully be his until the death of his father. It's not like Lucius was a miser with the money, it was just that he had his own ideas about how much Draco needed and it differed greatly from what Draco actually he needed. So, in order to subsidize his measly allowance, he decided to hire himself out as a treasure hunter.

He had always had a love of archaeology, something no one but Granger knew about. Books upon books about lost cities and mythological treasures lined his shelves at home. He had always dreamt about being a famous treasure hunter although, working for Gringotts was not what he wanted to do. Never could he imagine himself taking orders from some short, disgusting Goblin. He wanted to be his own boss. That way he could charge whatever he wanted.

He found his first employer, believe it or not, in the line at the Wizarding Bank. The tiny, portly, mustached man was talking heatedly with another wizard about the way the Goblins treated him. More than once, they had cheated him out of the treasure they were contracted to find for him.

"Stupid, bloody Goblins! Once they found that that magical cauldron was Goblin made, they refused to hand it over, and even more outrageous, they refused to refund my money! I lost a hundred thousand Galleons to them already this year. My museum is going to go bust!" The red-faced angry man slammed his fist into his palm. "I'm going to find myself a freelance treasure hunter, someone who won't be cheating me out of my damn treasure!"

The other man finally spoke. "But where will you find someone like that? I've never heard of any other treasure hunters, except for the ones here at Gringotts."

"Oh, they’re out there. They have to be," he said, turning, his eyes catching Draco's. "Something wrong? Can't anyone have a conversation without nosy busybodies eavesdropping?"

Draco was taken aback, but only for a second. "I couldn't help but overhear you, you were talking quite loudly," he smirked at the glaring man. "In fact, I think the whole damn bank heard you. You might want to try whispering the next time you don't want everyone to know your business."

The man gave a 'humph', his moustache flapping, and turned back around as the Goblin called for the next customer.

Draco stepped out of line as the museum owner made his way to the door, having finished his business with the Goblin. "Excuse me," he said politely.

The man turned and frowned when he saw who it was. "Well, if it isn't the smartass from the line." He tried to move out the door, but Draco stepped in front of him, blocking the exit. "What…," he looked up at Draco, who was grinning, as if amused.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Remove yourself from this doorway and let me through before I have to hurt you," he said, pulling out his wand.

Draco made no move to take out his. Instead, he took the little man by the sleeve and pulled him into a corner.

"What is the meaning of this! Unhand me right this minute! Do you know who I am?" He was quivering with indignation, his eyes darting around for help.

"No, I'm sorry, I DON'T know who you are, but perhaps you've heard of me? My name is Draco Malfoy."

At the mention of the Malfoy, the little man let out a moan and collapsed against the wall, clutching his heart. "What do you want from me? I've paid your father everything I owed, I have nothing more to give!"

Draco lifted his eyebrow, quite perplexed. "I'm not here because of any debt you owe my father. I'm inquiring about the treasure hunter position you were talking so loudly about in the line back there."

The man visibly relaxed. He shook the rumples from his robes and then looked at Draco with glee. "You? A treasure hunter?" He giggled uproariously. "Don't make me laugh!" He shook his head, tears of mirth streaming from his eyes. "Cowardly Draco Malfoy, a treasure hunter?" He laughed harder. "Why at the first sign of danger, you'd shit your trousers and cry for your mummy!"

Draco, who hated to be laughed at more than anything, grabbed the little man by his black robes and lifted him off his feet. "If I were you, I'd shut the fuck up right now."

The smile one the little man’s face faded quickly and was replaced with one of pure fear. "Please!" he said, begging. "I didn't mean it!"

"Yes, you did." Draco said through clenched teeth. He knew everyone thought him nothing more than a cowardly piece of chicken shit. In fact, he had was. He was afraid to stand up to his father and his outlandish Pureblood fanaticism, he had been to scared out of his mind to take Dumbledore up on his offer of safety, he had lived in constant fear of everyone finding out the he loved Hermione. 

His whole life was a one great big ball of fear wrapped in a protective coating of cowardice. Now that was all going to change. "I want to prove to you, and to all the other doubters in the wizarding world, that Draco Malfoy is not a worthless coward who hides behind his father's money and power." He set the man on his feet. "Give me a chance, and I promise you that I'll bring back your treasure or die trying."

"Let me get this straight," the astonished man said. "You are willing to risk your precious ass to bring me treasure? What's in it for you? How much is your fee?"

Draco had no idea what to charge. "You pay me whatever you think I deserve."

The little man looked shocked. "This is a set up, isn't it?" He looked around at the crowded bank. "I'm part of some practical joke right?"

"This is no joke. I will bring back whatever it is that you desire, and then you pay me whatever you want the first time."

"Ah! I knew there was some catch!" the man said, fingering his mustache. "The next time the fee will be extravagant, too extravagant for me to pay, and then you will sic your lunatic father on me..."

Draco as losing patience, something he really didn't have a lot of to begin with. "I TOLD YOU, THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY FATHER!"

The man looked around, hushing him. The last thing he wanted was a scene. "Fine! Come to my office at two p.m. tomorrow. We will discuss what you're first assignment will be." He looked down at this watch. "Good gracious! I must go. I'm late for a meeting! Just come to the address on the card." He turned at the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Malfoy, and I look forward to doing business with you." He stowed his wand, and with a slight bow, he left the building.

Draco looked down at the crisp white business card:

'Mr. Preston Praesul, Head Curator  
The Wizard Museum of Ancient Artifacts and Antiquities  
London, England' 

Draco smiled to himself. He was sure this was going to be the first of many adventures.

***

"The what?" Draco screeched. "You want to me to find what?" He was sure the room had just gotten a lot smaller and that something was sucking all the air from his very lungs.

"Tri Thlws ar Ddeg Ynys Prydain- The Thirteen Royal Treasures of the Isle of Britain." Mr. Praesul was sure that Draco, being the coward he was, would never agree to take on the dangerous assignment. He never wanted to do business with another Malfoy again, all it did was cause a world of pain and suffering.

Draco knew that most of time, mythology, and reality collided when it came to treasures. He had grown up hearing about the Royal Thirteen and to him it was all real, not a myth to tell a child during a bedtime story. Imagine being the one to find them and bring them back. He would be famous!

"The assignment is a perilous one, filled with dangers you can't even begin to imagine. So I'll understand completely if you decide not to..."

"Not to?" Draco said, his eyes huge with the visions of being hailed a hero. "There is no way I would pass this up!"

Mr. Praesul, seemed to wilt in his swivel chair. 'Damn!' he thought. Giving a loud sigh, he heaved himself from the chair and handed Draco a box full of files and photos. "You will go over every detail of these with me and then, and only then, will you agree to take the job."

Draco pulled out a stack of files and opened up the one on the top that was labeled 'Dyrnwyn, gleddyf Rhydderch Hael: White Hilt, the Sword of Rhydderch Hael.' "Shall we begin?" he asked, smirking at Mr. Praesul.

***

Draco took to treasure hunting like a fish to water. He loved the adventure, the sneaking around, the thievery, and most of all…the outfits. Using his wits, his immense knowledge of magic, and his skills as a liar, and spouter of sarcasm, he succeeded in finding four Royal Treasures in no time at all. He even managed to find some other minor artifacts along the way that he sold to the highest bidder, making quite a few extra galleons.

After he returned each time with a Royal Treasure, Mr. Praesul reluctantly became more and more in awe with the young man. Apparently, he had underestimated him. 

"Hogalen Tudwal Tudclyd, The Whetstone of Tudwal Tudglyd, if a brave man sharpened his sword on it, if it then drew blood from a man he would die. If a cowardly man sharpened his sword on it, then his opponent would be no worse." Mr. Prausul placed the stone in the case, where it rested on a plush dark red embroidered pillow. "You are amazing, my boy! Simply amazing!"

Draco gave a deep bow, removing his hat with a flourish. "Thank you. Thank you."

"So far you have brought me The Gwyddbwyll Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio, The Golden Chessboard of Gwenddolau son of Ceidio!" He motioned towards the window next to the Whetstone, where silver chess pieces were playing by themselves on a golden chessboard. "And the Car Morgan Mwynfawr, The Chariot of Morgan the Wealthy!" 

He and Draco walked over to a chariot that was set up on a platform with a red-velvet rope around it. "Of course they say if you get inside, whatever you wish to go, you would be there." He chuckled. "I haven't had the nerve to try it out myself though!"

Draco had tried it and it did work, but he wasn't going to tell his employer that. "And don't forget," he said, walking over to another glass display case. This one was lit up, shining on the glittering blade of an ornate sword. "My favorite as a child, The Dyrnwyn, gleddyf Rhydderch Hael, White-Hilt, the Sword of Rhydderch Hael." He looked longingly into the case. It had been hard to hand this treasure over. Every night as a child, he fantasized that he was the owner of the sword that would burst into flame from its hilt to the tip of its blade. What a magnificent treasure!

"I almost died getting you this, you know that?" Draco asked. "I had a hell of a time getting it away from that crazy ancestor of King Rhitta. Almost fell off a damn cliff fighting with the nutter."

"Yes, well, did I not pay you well for your brush with death?"

"You did," Draco said with a huge grin. "You have proven to be a very generous boss, Mr. Praesul. My bank account thanks you."

"You still have a few left to retrieve, Mr. Malfoy. Are you still up for the challenge? All the danger..."

Draco twirled his wand in his fingers. "I live for the danger."

"Can I ask you something, Mr. Malfoy?" Mr. Praesul asked cautiously because Draco had a massive temper, and it could erupt at the slightest thing.

"Ask away."

"Do you have a death wish?"

"What?" Draco asked.

"A death wish. You know, it seems that you rush head long into perilous situations where you could be killed because deep down inside, you want to die. Why?"

Draco frowned at the little man. "I rush head long into danger not because I want to die, but because I have something to prove... to someone." He knew he had already said too much.

"Interesting. Is this someone a woman?"

"This someone is none of your damn business. You hired me to be a treasure hunter, not a psychology test subject." Draco took one more look at the sword and walked away, yelling over his shoulder. "You shall have the rest of the Royal Treasures within the month."

And to Mr. Praesul's astonishment, he did bring them, completing the set and making his museum the most famous in the whole of the wizarding world. He paid Draco well and offered his name to another man, who had expressed interest in finding a mythological treasure: A Mr. Rangvald Lysbakken.

***

"You want me to bring you the Brisingamen? Are you crazy?" Draco stood to leave.

"Mr. Malfoy, I will pay you whatever you want. It is of great importance that you find the necklace for me." Mr. Lysbakken was a man of desperation. He had promised to give an evil, dark wizard the famous necklace as payment for getting rid of a certain gentleman who was married to the woman he, Rangvald, was in love with. The dark wizard had agreed, and had used his powerful magic to kill the man. Now this so called 'Black Lord' wanted his payment.

What Draco didn't know was that he had unwillingly become involved in this man's mess; Mr. Lysbakken promising the Black Lord that Draco would retrieve the famous necklace for him. "I'm begging you! Please!"

'I must be off my damn rocker!' Draco thought. This necklace, The Brisingmen, was bad news and so were the Brisings.

The Brisings were the name of the four dwarf brothers. They were named Alfrigg, Berling, Dvalin, and Grer. The dwarfs were responsible for creating a beautiful gold necklace, known as the Brisingamen. It was so beautiful that the goddess, Freyja wanted it for herself.

The dwarfs refused to accept Freyja's gold and silver for the necklace in trade. The Brisings would only give the goddess their Brisingamen if she slept with each one of them. In desperation to possess the Brisingamen, Freyja agreed to their price. For four nights, she spent a night in each of the dwarf's bed.

Odin was disgusted that Freyja was acting like a whore, by selling herself for the Brisingamen, and had Loki steal the Brisingamen from Freyja.

Disguised as a flea, Loki bit Freyja, so that the goddess would turn around in the bed. This allowed Loki's to unlock the clasp and slip the necklace off her neck.

Freyja went and confronted Odin, demanding the return of her Brisingamen.She told Odin that it was disgraceful that he would steal her necklace. Odin countered that it was she who was even more disgraceful, because she had slept with four dwarves to gain the Brisingamen.

Odin finally agreed to return the Brisingamen to Freyja, only on the condition that she start war in the world of men, between two kings. Freyja had no choice, if she wanted the Brisingamen returned to her.

Draco did not look forward to trying to steal the necklace from a goddess. How would he do it, and where the hell did he even begin to look? He knew this would be his most dangerous assignment yet, and if he did manage by some perverse twist of fate, to retrieve the Brisingamen, maybe word of it would reach England, and the ears of that certain someone. Then again, if the goddess killed him, then that would be fine as well. His life wasn't worth living anyway without Hermione.

He took Mr. Lysbakken's hand and shook it. "I agree to try to find this necklace for you."

"Oh, please Mr. Malfoy! Do more than try! I really need that necklace!"

Draco was becoming increasingly suspicious of why this man needed it so badly. "And what if I can't find it?"

"Then I fear we will both die a horrible death at the hands of the wizard I so stupidly pissed off."

Draco's wrath was quick and fierce. He threw the shaking man into the corner, his head making an indent in the plaster wall. "What the fucking hell are you talking about?" He gripped the man's throat with hands that wanted to squeeze the life from the asshole's body.

Rangvald looked at Draco with wide, fearful eyes. "I promised the Black Lord that you would find it, and give it to him, and he said that if you didn't succeed, he would kill us both."

Draco was speechless with shock. 'Just fucking great!' he thought. He let go of Rangvald's throat, and started to pace the floor. "What if I just kill you right now and leave here, pretending I never even heard of you or this Black Lord?"

"That won't work. He knows your name, he knows everything about you. He'll do anything to find you even hurt or kill the one's you love."

Draco's fingers ripped at his own hair. "How dare you get me involved in this!" he spat. "AHHHHHH!" He screamed. "I can't fucking believe this!" He paced the floor, trying to think.

Rangvald cowered in the corner as Draco pulled out his wand and stalked towards him. "Please!" he said, his hand covering his head as he crouched into a ball.

"I guess I have no choice, do I? You made sure of that you piece of shit!" He picked the man up by his hair and shoved his wand in his face. "After I get this fucking necklace, I'm coming after you, do you understand?" There was no answer except for the man's fearful sobs. "DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes!" Rangvald stuttered, and he slid down the wall as Draco let go of him.

"I'll be back with the Brisingamen, and for your life."

***

For six months, Draco searched high and low for the illusive necklace. He followed clue after clue, escaped death again and again, but always came up empty handed. He finally gave up and decided a change of plans was in order. He was still adamant that that prick, Rangvald, deserved to die a most horrible death. He would leave him to the dark wizard. Speaking of said wizard, he wasn't sure how to get this Black Lord off his back. He came to the conclusion that right now, fleeing the country was in his best interest, and he would deal with the consequences later, if there were any.

And so he found himself, two months later, wandering around a small Russian village in a fucking blizzard, wishing for some whiskey, or in this case, vodka, to warm his freezing body. He had always hated winter, especially since the one where Hermione dumped his ass for Weasley. It was her he was thinking about as he stepped into the pub, took his seat by the fire, ordered a bottle, and proceeded to get shit-faced.

After an hour or so, when he was feeling more than a little drunk, he noticed two men sitting at a table close to his. How long they had been sitting there, he didn't know. Through the fog in his head, he could hear them whispering. His Russian was a little rusty, but he caught the words 'Heart of Winter' and Black Lord, and he quickly sobered up.

Was the Black Lord after the Heart? Or did he already possess it? This was crucial. If he already had it, then Draco knew he must somehow think of a way to steal it from him, and if he was only searching for it, he knew he must find it before the Black Lord did, because the Heart of Winter was rumored to be the most powerful magical object in existence.

He tried to, nonchalantly listen in, pretending to stare at a voluptuous barmaid who was clearing empty shot glasses from a nearby table.

"Listen, Yuri, the Black Lord says this, Heart of Winter will make him the most powerful wizard that ever lived. If we bring this to him, we will be his most favored servants."  
"But Dmitri, this thing is only a rumor; it has never been proven to exist. How do you expect us to find it?

The man named Dmitri, smiled, showing his broken rotting teeth. "I have been given secret information that has just recently uncovered. I know where it is, Yuri. Not far from here, in the mountains. In the realm of Skadi, the goddess of winter."

Draco almost choked on the vodka he was sipping. Skadi was a frightful goddess, the Viking goddess of winter. She was a giantess, a huntress, a dark magician who ruled over the mountains, wilderness, revenge, knowledge, and justice. She was said to dwell in the high, snow-covered mountains of Scandinavia. He quickly recovered from shock and continued to listen in.

"We leave in a few minutes. I think from the village below the mountains, we will Apparate to the top of the highest peak. I'm sure we will find this Heart of Winter there."

Yuri frowned, not seeming to, really want to go on Dmitri's quest. "I hope you know what you are doing."

Dmitri slapped his less than excited friend on the back. "Don't I always, Yuri?"

Draco waited a few minutes after the two men left, and then quickly followed them. Luckily, the snow was heavy and hid the fact that he was on their heels. He pulled his collar up, and wrapped his scarf around his face. He thought about how stupid it was that he hadn't dressed more warmly. He simply thought that looking good was more important than being warm, and he knew he was going to pay for it, maybe with lost toes and fingers.

He pushed his way through the knee-high drifts of snow and the blustery, stinging wind, making sure that he never lost sight of the Russians. He followed them for days, until finally, they came to the village. Looking up at the mountains, Draco couldn't help but gasp. They were massive and scary looking. He watched from behind a fat pine tree as the two men Apparated. Picturing the highest peak, he closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was standing in front of what he thought was a cave. Clouds enveloped him, making visibility poor.

Reaching out with his gloved hands, he felt his way inside, glancing up at the huge mound of snow that threatened to slide from the rock, burying him alive. Once inside, he was plunged into darkness. Listening for any sign of the Russians, he pulled out his wand and lit the tip, allowing a small light to penetrate the darkness.

Beneath his feet was a layer of very thick ice. His expensive, impractical boots had zero traction, so he slipped and slid his way across the cave, trying not to fall and bust his ass in the process. He managed to make his way over to the end of the cave where it split into two long passages. Sticking his head inside the one on the left, he could hear the echoes of Yuri and Dmitri arguing. Both had lit their wands, and Draco could see the light bobbing off the ice-covered walls of the tunnel.

He started to follow them, but then stopped. He thought he heard something coming from the other passage. Standing as still as he could, and concentrating very hard, he realized that he really was hearing something…something like whispering.  
It was a woman's voice calling to him, sounding very sweet and oh, so seductive. He was vaguely aware that his feet were now moving him towards that it, and he was now sure it was calling him by his name.

There was a glowing bluish light at the end of the passage, and it grew brighter as Draco got closer. He put his wand away, aware that it was a stupid thing to do, but he did it anyway. For some reason, he just knew he didn't need it.  
'Come to me Draco. I need you. I love you.'

He stopped, suddenly blinded as the light grew bright, almost like that of the sun.

'Draco,' the voice said in that erotic tone as if a lover was whispering in his ear. 'I love you. I want to show you...give you everything you've ever wished...'

The light began to dim as he fumbled forward with his hands outstretched. His heart was pounding, knowing this was some kind of trick, but he was helpless to stop himself from finding the origin of that voice.

'You are so close, my love. Reach out for me, hold me in your warmth, and I will be yours, forever.'

His hands met something cold and slippery, and he slowly opened his eyes. "Oh, my fucking hell!" he said in awe. He was standing in a huge cavern covered in ice. He looked up, seeing huge icicles hanging dangerously over his head. He tore his eyes away from them and scanned the walls. "What the..." he said almost running across the cave.  
There behind a thick wall of crystal-clear ice, was a glowing orb. It was hanging there as if suspended in the ice, and as he ran his hand over the smooth surface, the colors inside started to swirl, and once more that beautiful voice seemed to whisper into his ear.

'I'm so cold, Draco. Please, I need your warmth. Hold me, love me and I will give you your every desire.'

He saw himself as if in a dream, taking off his gloves and placing his hands on the ice. He could feel the sting of the cold, and feel the wetness as it melted away at his touch. All the while, the orb swirled with shades of dark grey, and cloudy white.  
'That's it, my love. So close. I long for the heat of your body. I can give her to you, the one you desire, and the one you love.'

Draco blinked, not taking his numb hands from the rapidly melting shield of ice. "Is this true?" he asked the orb. "You can make her desire me again?" His right hand slipped through and his fingers landed on its cold surface.

The glass sphere suddenly turned a deep shade of blue and what looked like shadows came floating into Draco's view. His other hand slipped through and as soon as it touched the orb, it turned a deep red.

'I cannot make her desire you.'

He lifted the fragile treasure from the stone shelf it rested on. "But you said..." He looked into it, seeing images of Hermione, lying in bed with a sleeping Ron. She was turned away from him, crying. The picture faded and another one replaced it. She was sitting on a bench in a garden, looking a photo of Draco. She was smiling sadly.

'I cannot make her desire you when her desire for you has never left her heart. She loves you still.'

He watched as the images flashed faster and the orb turned from red to pink to pure white with something like snowflakes or glitter swimming inside. He saw himself and Hermione decorating a Christmas tree, sitting in front of a fire, naked and wrapped in a blanket. The glass was getting hotter and hotter and his hands were now burning, but he didn't want to stop looking into it. what was he seeing? The future? His desires?

"Hey! What do you think you are doing?" Came a rough, angry Russian voice from the cavern entrance.

The Heart of Winter seemed to blink out, allowing Draco to look away and turn to confront the intruders. "What am I doing?" he asked with a smirk. He held up the priceless treasure for them to see. "I'll tell you what I'm doing. I'm stealing the Heart of Winter right out from under your fucking noses." He put it in his coat pocket, and pulled out his wand. "And you can tell you beloved Black Lord that it was Draco Malfoy, Treasure Hunter Extraordinaire that did it."

********

"Ow!" Draco said as Hermione slapped his arm. "What the hell was that for?"

"You stupid idiot! You told them your name?" She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in exasperation.

He rubbed his arm, wincing. "Well, yeah."

"You just couldn't resist, could you? 'I, the great and all-powerful Draco Treasure Hunter Malfoy have succeeded in thwarting you!'" she said, puffing up her chest and speaking like a drag king. "Now, they know it was you and that Black Lord will definitely want to kill you now!" She slapped him again. "You stupid moron!"

"Stop abusing me and let me finish, will you?"

*********

Yuri and Dmitri ran forward, shooting spells that ricocheted off the ice, sending ice chips flying. Draco aimed at the giant icicles on the ceiling and shouted, Confringo! The cave seemed to shake. Both the Russians halted in their tracks and looked up at the icicles in fear.

There was a tickling noise as the smaller ones fell. Draco ran for it as soon as the first big one came crashing down. He narrowly missed being sliced by a razor sharp shard, as he fled the cavern, running as fast as he could. Behind him, the noise was deafening. Shouting, screaming, and the thunderous sound of the falling ice.

***********

"And so, I Apparated to the village below, and for a month now, I've been running for my life being followed day and night by those two comrades! This Heart of Winter has been seducing me, sucking me dry of all my magic, and promising me things that I know will never happen, things that can't be true." He lowered his head, looking at the floor, hating himself for bringing her into this.

Hermione reached out, her small hand lifting his face towards hers. "What the Heart said, was true. I have never stopped desiring you. I've never stopped loving you." She brushed her lips against his, and outside the storm raged on.


	7. 7

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione are interrputed in the middle of something, and the bad guys have a plan to get into the house.  


* * *

Somehow, she was in his lap and he was removing her shirt and bra, tossing them to the floor. His hands were running up and down the soft bare skin of her back, and his lips melted with hers in a hot, passionate kiss.

Her head fell back, her loose hair falling to the small of her back as he slid his tongue down her neck, making sexy growling noises. She could feel the heat between her legs growing as he took one of her hard nipples into his wet mouth and sucked hard on it, making her shiver with want.

Suddenly the fireplace roared and a voice echoed through the room, making them both jump. “Hermione?”

“Oh, my God! It’s Ron!” she said, pushing Draco away and standing up, her legs shaking. She quickly grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and threw it on top of him. “Lie down and don’t say anything!”

“Hermione!” Ron shouted. “Are you there?” He seemed to talk to someone else. “I don’t think the Floo Network is still working. I can’t see into the house and she’s not answering…”

She found her shirt, shoved it over her head, and ran to the fireplace where Ron’s head was floating, flashing in and out of sight. “Ron!” she said, chancing a look over to the sofa to see if Draco still hidden under the blanket…he was.

“Hermione!” he said, relief in his voice. “Are you all right? This storm…” His image flickered and came right back. “…never seen anything like it!”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was just having some tea before I go up to bed.”

“To have sex with me!” Draco said loudly.

Hermione’s head whipped around and she glared at him.

“Is someone else there?” Ron asked, suspicious. “I thought I heard…” He went out again for a second.

Hermione just about screamed in annoyance when bra sailed through the air and hit her in the head. “No!” she said hurriedly. “I’m alone, just me and Crookshanks!” She hoped Ron hadn’t seen that. How would she explain that, bras falling from thin air? She wanted to change the subject. “Does anyone know where this storm came from?”

Ron flickered again. “Malfoy… dangerous… locate… Harry and I…”

“Ron!” She said in a panic. “Ron, I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up. What did you say about Malfoy?”

“I said that our sources say that Malfoy has stolen some sort of dangerous magical object from this nutter who thinks he’s Voldemort, and we’re trying to track Malfoy down before he does. His minions want to kill him, and personally, I’d like to watch them do it…”

Ron’s head shimmered, flickered, and then reappeared. “Leave it to him to stir up the next ice age just because he wants to get his hand on another treasure he can sell. Like he needs the Galleons! His greed is going to be the death of us all.”  
Hermione looked over her shoulder Draco was peeking out from under the blanket, his face pale.

“Are you still there?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I’m still here. Ron, do you know anything about the object he supposedly stole? Like how it works or what it actually does or um… how to er… destroy it?”

“Why?” he asked, suspicious again.

“No reason,” she tried to sound nonchalant, but the quivering in her voice was giving her away.

“Hermione, are you sure there is nothing wrong? You sound strange…”

“Nothing is wrong except that I miss you, and I’m worried about you,” she could hear Draco making retching noises and it took all of her will power not to turn around and scream at him.

“I miss you too. Do… have… ity?” Ron said, fading in and out.

“What?”

“Electricity? Do you still have it?” He said louder.

“Yes.” Just as she said that, the lights went out and they were plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the fireplace. “Well, at least I did still have it. Do they know how to stop the storm or when it might break?

“It’s finally stopped snowing, but we don’t know why. I like to think that Malfoy’s death has something to do with it,” he chuckled happily.

Hermione frowned. “Ron, you know I don’t like you talking about Malfoy that way…”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve scolded me about it on numerous occasions.”

He sounded bitter and Hermione wondered, not for the first time, if Ron knew more than he was letting on about her and Draco’s previous relationship. Did he suspect anything? She thought she had been pretty thorough, about hiding the evidence, and Draco had never said one word about it to anyone as far as she knew.

He was silent for a second, his image fading in and out again. “I just wanted to see if you were okay, and to warn you that the Floo is going to be down, so if there is an emergency or if you’re feeling lonely, just Apparate to the Burrow, Mum will be happy to have you.”

The last thing Hermione wanted to do was to spend who-knew-how-many days cooped up with Molly. Sure, she was great and all but having to listen to her not so subtle hints about her marrying Ron was not her idea of a good time. “Sure. Okay.”

“I love you,” Ron said.

Hermione said it back, as she had a million times. There was the familiar swooping feeling of guilt in her stomach after she said it, because truth be told, no matter how much she wanted to love him, it was just not there.

Ron’s head disappeared and Hermione sighed. She had learned really nothing new from the conversation. They already knew that those crazy people wanted to kill him, that the Heart was causing the storm and that Ron still hated Draco. What she really needed to know was how to get Draco’s magic back and how to destroy it, that thing was unpredictable and there was no telling what it was capable of doing. She slowly got to her feet and headed back towards the couch where Draco was sitting up, still wrapped in the blanket.

She sat down beside him, and he said nothing, just stared ahead looking morose. “I think I’m going to start some research on this Heart of Winter. I have tons of books on mythology, and I know I’ve heard that name before. If not in one of my books, then in one of the many in the Ministry archives.”

He still said nothing, so she continued. “I’ll need your help because you’re the only one who can handle the object, seeing as it’s already taken all of your magic. I don’t think it wise for me to touch it. No sense in both of us being left magic-less. Then there wou…”

“Is it true?” he asked, turning towards her, the flames from the fire illuminating one side of his face.

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Is what true?”

He looked at her, his eyes hard, his face flushed with building rage. “Do you love him?”

“What if I said yes?”

“Then you might as well rip my heart from my chest and throw it out into the snow.” He turned away, sulking like a child. “I really have no fucking idea how you can love him. He’s as ugly as a puss-filled pimple on a Goblin’s ass, his hair is atrocious, he dresses like a gutter tramp, and he’s so stupid he’s bordering on retarded…”

Hermione put her finger over his lips and shushed him. She crawled on top of him, putting her arms around his neck, and looking deep into his eyes. “There is only one man I’ve ever loved… Harry!”

Draco growled playfully and flipped her over, pinning her underneath him. “That’s okay, because I’ve always been madly infatuated with Ginny.” He buried his face in her hair, relishing that sweet smell again. “That hot ass of hers, so round and firm. Makes me want to bend her over my knee and smack it until she begs for mercy, and those eyes that scream ‘throw me to the floor and fuck me until I can’t walk anymore’.”

Hey!” he said as Hermione pushed her way out from under him and stood up, suddenly furious. He rolled over, putting his hands behind his head, knowing she was going to give him hell for his sexual comments about her best friend, and waited with glee.

“The way you’re talking about her, I’m beginning to think you really do have a thing for her!” She wanted to stomp her foot in a juvenile display of anger, but thought better of it. “The whole time we were going out, you were lusting after her weren’t you? Secretly wanting to screw her brains out! Admit it!”

He gave her that cocky smirk. “What’s that?” he said, sniffing the air. “Could it be the scent of sulfur from your spark of jealousy?” He clicked his tongue, tying to shame her. “I never would have taken you for the envious type, the stubborn type who would break up with the love of her life because she was afraid people would find out about their secret relationship, leaving them both heartbroken, spending endless sleepless nights pining for the touch of the other sure, but not the envious type.”

She smacked him in the head, making his hair fall into his face. “That’s for being a jackass!” She smiled sweetly at him, hands on her hips, head held high in defiance, daring him to do something. There was some sort of mischievous look in his eyes that both frightened and excited her.

“I’m going to get you for that, Granger!” he said with an evil grin from ear to ear. She looked so fucking sexy standing there with her hair frizzled out, trying to look like a badass.

“You have to catch me first, you pansy-ass mama’s boy!” She stuck her tongue out and gave him a raspberry. He reached for her, his hand shooting out with super speed. She jumped back, shrieking laughter, turned and ran. “Catch me and I might make it worth your while!”

He was off the sofa in a flash, chasing her through the dark house, and up the stairs.

***

“Yuri! You fucking idiot!” Dmitri said, sputtering and wiping snow from his face. He painfully rubbed the huge bump that was forming on his forehead. They were on their hands and knees, shoveling their way through the snow, trying to tunnel their way to the house where they knew that bastard named Malfoy was hiding out with the Heart.

“Sorry, Dmitri!” Yuri said, secretly being anything but. “My hands are numb and the shovel slipped.

Dimitri pulled out his wand. “Get out of my way, you useless piece of shit. He did some complicated movements, said an incantation, and the snow started to melt slowly. “They'll never see us coming! They think everyone is snowed in and that they’re safe. I personally can’t wait to slit that fucker’s throat! You can have the girl Yuri- do what you want with her. Fuck her, kill her, fuck her and then kill her…” He cackled like a loon, crawling forward half a step. “We’ll be there in no time!”

Yuri rolled his eyes.


	8. 8

  
Author's notes: Yuri and Dmitri find a way in, and Hermione is attacked.  


* * *

“Damn it Yuri!” Dmitri said, looking over his shoulder. “If you run into my ass one more time…” He shook his wand in Yuri’s face.

“It’s dark in here!” Yuri said. “And maybe if your ass wasn’t so damn huge, I’d be able to avoid it!”

Dmitri glared at him, wanting to Avada Kedavra the annoying bastard right then and there. He had known Yuri for about four years, and with every passing second, the man got on his nerves more and more. He was a smart-mouthed idiot.

“It’s your turn, get up here and lead the way; my arm needs a rest.” He shook his wand hand. “My fingers are fucking frozen solid!”

Yuri could fail to see how he was supposed to get in front of Dmitri in a small space. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Climb over you?”

“No, you fucking idiot! Just Apparate in front of me!” He shook his head. “Sometimes I think you have no brain at all, Yuri!”

“Well, if I can Apparate in front of you, why can’t we just Apparate into her house instead of freezing our arses off while tunneling through the snow?” He looked at his comrade in all seriousness.

“Because you moron, who knows what kind of protection that woman has put on her house!” He said, smacking Yuri in the side of the head. “In case you’ve forgotten, this is no ordinary witch we’re dealing with!”

Yuri rubbed his sore head. “Right.” They knew from their Lord that Hermione Granger was a very dangerous, powerful, intelligent witch, and he warned them to take her very seriously. Draco Malfoy was also said to be someone not to screw around with, so they had to make sure they stayed on their toes.

“We can’t underestimate their powers,” Dmitri said. “We don’t really know what they’re capable of. We’ve never even heard of them until that bastard stole that Heart from us!” Yuri kept his mouth shut; he didn’t want Dmitri to know that he was better acquainted with the two thieves than anyone knew.

Yuri closed his eyes and a second later, appeared in front of Dmitri. He pulled out his wand, decided which was the right way to Hermione’s house, smiled slyly, and started to melt the snow, humming merrily as he worked.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dmitri yelled, punching him in the kidney.

Yuri ground his teeth together, wanting to cry out in pain, but not wanting to give Dmitri the pleasure. He instead thought about how it would feel to turn around and jab his wand right into Dmitri’s socket, hearing the pop, and seeing the fluid gush from his deflated eyeball- that would be nice…

“Get a move on!” Dmitri snarled, “Useless piece of shit,” he added under his breath.

He melted to snow out of the way for perhaps an hour before he came to a solid brick wall. “We’re here,” he said, smiling over his shoulder.

“We’re here?” Dmitri said, climbing over the man hurriedly, his knees digging into Yuri’s back, pinning him to the snow-covered floor of the tunnel. He was laughing hysterically, and that laughter stopped abruptly when all he saw was a wall. “What the fuck do you mean ‘we’re here’? I see only bricks!”

As Yuri was struggling to get to up, he was shoved violently backwards, his head smacking the ground. “There should be a basement window right next to it,” he moaned, rolling to his side. He saw a blurry vision of Dmitri, using his wand to melt away the snow to the right of wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished the tunnel would just collapse, burying them both alive. This was not what he signed up for! To be abused and belittled by a barbaric man with a mouth full of rotting teeth and a heart to match.

“Ah ha!” Dmitri yelled excitedly. “Here’s that window, just as you said!” He turned and gave Yuri a pleased smile. “Perhaps you are not worthless after all!” He laid back and kicked at the window with his boot, but it didn’t break. “Bitch probably put a protective spell on the doors and windows. Well, let’s start with the basics…” He aimed his wand at the glass and said, “Alohamora!” To their astonishment, they heard a click and the window swung open. “Well fuck me like a Mexican whore, and call me Cha Cha!” he said incredulously. “Seems as though Miss Granger isn’t as smart as everyone thinks!”

He pushed the basement window open and he and Yuri climbed inside. Through the dim light of their wands, they could see they were standing in a finished basement. In this particular room, there was pool table, a bar, a dart board, and a huge screen mounted on the far wall in front of some comfy-looking leather furniture. Everywhere they looked there was expensive looking Muggle electronic equipment. This was a man’s room.

Yuri ran his cold hand over the soft material of the sofa as they walked past and into another room. “Holy shitballs!” he said looking around in the semi-darkness. This room was obviously never used and was for show only. It was richly decorated in white and gold. White walls, white rugs, white furniture, and everything was accessorized with gold-trim. He was afraid to touch anything.

“She sure is a rich bitch, isn’t she?” Dmitri said, feeling the breasts of an expensive looking statue of some Greek goddess. “I bet we could make a fortune selling this stuff!” He picked up a gem-encrusted box from the end table, and stuffed into his pocket. “I say we rape her as he watches, then make her watch while we kill him. Then we tie her up, steal all this expensive stuff- including the Heart of Winter, set the house on fire and let her burn to death.” He grinned at Yuri, his tongue sliding across his green moldy teeth, the whites of his eyes glowing insanely in the dark.

“You’re not serious are you?” Yuri asked, the vomit sliding up his throat. There was no way he would ever participate in such a disgusting plan.

“Oh, I’m dead serious, Yuri. Now let’s go surprise the hell out of these thieves.” He motioned for Yuri to follow. They found some stairs in the next room, which was some sort of facility for cleaning and drying clothes. Dmitri skirted around the giant steel contraptions, wondering what in the hell they could be used for.

Together they walked up the staircase, being as quiet as possible, wincing every time a step creaked. Dmitri opened the door at the top, and after shooting Yuri a devious grin over his shoulder, he stepped into the kitchen. They stood in the dark room, listening. The only sounds were the howling wind and…

“Do you hear that?” Dmitri asked in a whisper. “It sounds like a woman!” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Let the fun begin!” he said.

***

“You run like a girl!” Hermione said, laughing and trying to catch her breath as she raced for the dark stairwell. She ran up as fast as she could and could sense she was almost to the top. He was taking the steps two at a time, and she felt his fingers brush the back of her shirt, but then there was a thud and a loud sound like breaking wood and then silence.

She froze, her hand on the railing, her heart hammering in her chest. “Draco?” she said into the darkness. Why did she leave her damn wand downstairs? “Accio wand!” She felt a whoosh of air and it was in her hand. “Lumos!” She peered down the stairs, the light from her wand barely making a cut through the thick blackness. “Draco? Are you all right?” She took a step down, holding her wand out in front of her, feeling her way along the wall with the other hand.

She moved the light around, frantically looking for him, expecting to see his crumpled bleeding body lying at the foot of the stairs, and was totally shocked to not find anything! He wasn’t there…

“Damn it Draco, where are you?” she said barely above a whisper. Now at the bottom of the stairs, the flickering from the fire in the living room was at least giving off a hint of light, but it was still very dark. She felt her way around the corner and went to take a step forward, when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a hand slammed over her mouth, cutting off her scream.


	9. 9

  
Author's notes: Draco and Hermione have some fun, and Dmitri and Yuri don't.  


* * *

"Shhh!" Draco said, his hand still held tightly over her mouth. Her heart was slamming against her rib cage, and she had come very close to pissing her knickers. She could feel his hot breath against her ear; it was heavy, as if he was nervous or excited. His body was pressed against her so tightly that she could feel every hard muscle in his body- especially the one between his legs that was now poking her in the arse.

"Dra..." she mumbled into the calloused skin of his palm. It felt scratchy against her mouth. He lifted her hair, and as his lips brushed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck, a tiny moan escaped hers. She closed her eyes, her wand held limply in one hand at her side, loving the shivers he was sending up and down her entire body. She had almost forgotten how erotic his touch could be, how his kisses drove her mad with desire.

He removed his hand from her mouth and it slowly made its way across her shoulder and down her back. When it slid under her shirt, caressing her bare stomach, she tilted her head back, and their lips met with passionate force. The wand fell from her hand and clattered to the floor, forgotten.

Draco’s hand made its way into her knickers, finding her pussy slick with her juices. “Mmmm… I want you so bad,” he breathed into her mouth as he slowly pushed two fingers in and out of her wet cunt. He was shaking with anticipation; his rock-hard cock was grinding into her round, firm ass.

“Then take me,” she said pushing herself into him, eliciting a moan from both of them. “Fuck me Draco…”

He moved quickly, suddenly grabbing her around the waist, turning her around and attacking her with animal lust. He ripped her shirt from her body as his lips smashed into hers. He could hear the sound of his trousers being unzipped; feel the touch of her warm hand as it freed his cock from its prison. Her strokes verged on being cruel, but it was what he wanted- for her to squeeze, dig her nails into it, and make him mad with pain and lust.

Hermione could barely control herself as he sucked and bit her neck; the one place he knew drove her crazy and made her toes curl. His fingers scrapped down her back, leaving vicious red lines that she knew she would feel tomorrow. Taking her lips into his possession once more, she gasped out loud as he kneaded her breasts, stopping only to pinch the stiff nipples with a violence he knew she loved.

Taking her hand from his leaking cock, she pushed him slightly away. “I think we’re a little over dressed for this, aren’t we?” She took hold of his belt loops and in one swoop, his pants and underwear were down around his ankles. He stepped out of them just as she removed hers, tossing them to the side.

Her hand was suddenly wrapped around his erection again, and she was not so gently pulling him towards her, until they were body to body, his rigid cock and her pumping hand the only thing between them. “I want you,” she said in a husky, sexy voice. “I want to feel you inside of me; thrusting hard, groaning with pleasure so that I know for certain that this is no dream.” She let go of his cock, wanting to run her hands over his smooth chest instead.

“Hermione,” he said, his lips hovering over hers. “I lo…”

Her finger pressed against his mouth, silencing him. “No talking Draco. Talk is for people who are not fucking…” She felt the smirk on his lips. Only he knew the way she loved to swear; it was their secret- one of many.

He picked her by the ass and slammed her into the wall with so much force it made the mirror next to her shake. She locked her legs around his back as he lifted her up a little higher, and plunged inside of her so deeply that she cried out with pain and total pleasure.

88888888888888888888

“Dmitri,” Yuri whispered as they walked through the dark house towards the sound of a woman moaning. “What are you going to do?” His friend said nothing, but gave him a vicious glare over his shoulder. The light from Yuri’s wand made him look even crazier than he really was- if that was possible.

Yuri was very frightened of Dmitri. The man was totally mental, and when someone was that bonkers, there was no telling what they were capable of doing. If he really was planning of torturing, raping and killing these people, then Yuri knew he would have to put a stop to, even if it meant killing his old ‘friend’.

It was darker than a coal pit in the house, and when Yuri collided noisily with a small table, almost sending a vase smashing to the floor, they froze, rigid with fear. After a long pause, sure that they hadn’t been discovered, they continued through the room.

The woman’s moans were closer and louder, and now both Dmitri and Yuri could tell they were obvious sounds of sexual pleasure. “Get ready Yuri!” Dmitri hissed and rushed forward, screaming “Stupefy!” There was a flash of light, a scream and then Dmitri’s high-pitched, maniacal laughter pierced through the darkness. He ran over to the two limp bodies and turned over the naked, stunned man who was lying face down on the floor.

“Shit!” Yuri heard him say. “You fucking idiot bastard!” he said, turning on Yuri with fury. “This is the wrong house! You brought us to the wrong house!” There was a bright stream of light and Yuri knew nothing but darkness and silence.

88888888888888888888

Hermione’s eyes shot open. “Did you hear something?” she asked breathlessly.

“Only you saying ‘God, yes! Fuck me harder, Draco…” He slowed his pace, making long luscious strokes; taking his cock out until only the tip was inside her and then slowly sliding it back in all the way. His arms and legs were shaking from the strain of holding her up and he thought about moving somewhere more comfortable, but she was close to exploding and so was he.

His fingers dug into her ass cheeks as he thrust hard and deep inside of her. He could feel her vaginal muscles contracting around his cock. She was whimpering into his neck, biting and moaning, her nails piercing the flesh on his back, probably drawing blood.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer, she could feel that wonderful tingling sensation that started in her toes and intensified as it reached her swollen pussy. With his next thrust, her body shook uncontrollably and she cried out, burying her face into his shoulder.

The sound of her orgasm, the feeling of her pussy tightening around his cock and the smell of sex was enough to drive him over the edge, where he crash landed into the best fucking orgasm of his life. It was like time ceased to exist, and he had forgotten how to speak or move- or even remember who the hell he was. He slammed into her, releasing a flood of cum that he was sure was going to fill her to the brim and over flow onto the floor.

It had been so damn long since he had made love to anyone. In fact the last time had been with her- yes, that long ago. He had tried and tried but never succeeded in forgetting her and moving on. Every time he came close to having sex with another woman, Hermione’s face would float into his mind, and her phantom smell would invade his nostrils, and he would simply get up, get dressed and leave the other woman alone and confused, wondering if he was a nutter or something.

She slowly lowered her shaky legs from around his back and let him lean into her, his lips gently caressing hers with loving kisses, the darkness enveloping them in a black cocoon.

“I love you, Hermione,” he said, resting his forehead on hers, feeling her tiny wisps of sweet breath on his face. He imagined looking into her eyes and seeing that she loved him too, but he didn’t have to because she said it.

He felt her warm trembling hands on his face. “If you only knew how many times I’ve longed to have you hold me like this again, to feel your lips on mine, to have your arms around me… I’ve never stopped loving you, ever.”

Was she crying? Draco brought his hand up and with his thumb, he brushed away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. “Now that I have you, you know I’m never going to give you up again, don’t you?” he said. “Weasley can go to hell.”

“I don’t even want to think about Ron right now,” she said, suddenly very tired. “We need to get some sleep. We have a lot of research to do tomorrow.” She took his hand and led him up the stairs to her room where they climbed under the blankets, and fell asleep almost at once, clinging desperately to one another as if they would awake and the other would be gone.

88888888888888888888

Downstairs, in Hermione’s study, behind the throw pillow on the chair, a bright blue light grew brighter and brighter. The Heart of Winter was calling to its owner…


	10. 10

  
Author's notes: Who owns the Heart of Winter, and what does it want?  


* * *

Hermione was suddenly aware that she was standing in the middle of a blizzard. The wind was howling and whipping around her, making her robe flutter around legs. She stood there, barefoot, knowing she should be freezing, but not feeling the least bit cold, in fact, she felt a little too warm.

The sky was a pale, pearly gray and as she spun around looking for landmarks, snow began to fall; big, fat flakes that clung to her hair and face. She could see nothing in the distance but the veil of snow and the cloudy-white wisps of her breath that puffed from her open mouth.

“Hello?” she shouted. “Is anyone there?” Her voice sounded strange, flat and small, as if it just fell from her lips and hung in the air right in front of her not going anywhere. She took a cautious step forward, the frozen grass crunching and splintering under her foot. My God! Where the hell am I?

The wind picked up, and the snow fall became suddenly heavier. Panic was gripping her in its tight fist and threatening to squeeze the very life from her. She turned this way and that, trying figure out which way to go. Tears began to well up in her eyes and spill out onto her cheeks, where they slid slowly down her face and fell to the frozen ground, instantly freezing.

“Help me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. 'Someone please! Where the hell am I? Oh, God, what if I’m stuck here for ever!' The thought of being trapped in a deserted snow storm for eternity was too much. Something inside of her snapped and she ran. Ran hard and fast, the wind pushing at her back, the snow blinding her. She ran until her lungs felt ready to explode, and she collapsed.

Rolling over onto her back, she opened her eyes, staring up into the swirling snow and gave up. This was it. This was how she was going to die. Who would have ever thought it would end this way? Her laying on her back, dressed in nothing but a thin black robe, her lifeless, glassy eyes forever fixed on the dark winter sky? At least she wasn’t cold… Why am I not cold? Where is this God forsaken place and how did I get here? She closed her eyes and tried to remember.

The last thing she recalled was falling asleep in Draco’s arms. Was this a dream? She reached her hand over and felt the ground below her. It was frozen solid, and although it should have been to cold for her to touch it for very long, she found she could lay her palm down on and not feel anything. The snow melted around it, and yet her hand stayed warm. She decided it was a dream after all. If it were real, she would have died long ago from hypothermia.

Starring once more up into the storm, she relaxed, knowing soon she would awaken and her nightmare would be over.

'Come to me. I need you. I love you. I have waited so long for you.'

Someone was calling to her. The soft, almost sensual voice was swirling with the snow, floating above her, beckoning to her. It was the orb- the Heart of Winter calling to her.

'Help me and I will give you anything you desire. Only you have the power.'

She sat up, trying to figure out where the haunting voice was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere, wrapping its self around her in its melodic weave. “Where are you?” she asked to the wind.

'I am here.'

She sat up, squinting, trying to see through the storm. “I can’t see you.”

'I am here. I am beneath…'

“Beneath what?” she shouted angrily. “Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?”

'Come to me, I beg you.'

There was a humming noise underneath her, and the ground began to vibrate. She jumped to her feet just as a crack appeared and spread out like a branch. A bright pinkish light shone from somewhere deep inside the crevice, basking her in its warm glow. She stood and watched as the crack grew longer.

'Follow…'

She only had to walk a short distance before she was standing on the edge of a massive frozen lake. She was amazed to realize that it had been so close to where she lay. “Are you here?”

'Yes.'

“Then show yourself!” She was losing all patience. It was in her nature to always have the upper hand, to always know that was happening and how to control the situation. Had she not always been proud of keeping her cool under the threat of impending danger and even certain death? Yet here she was, alone in a vast winter wasteland, having no idea how she got here or how to get out, and most infuriating of all- who the bloody hell this woman was who was calling to her.

'I cannot. I am trapped beneath…'

“Beneath what?” she screamed, clutching her hands to her head. “Stop playing these stupid games and just tell me what the…”

'The ice. I am under the ice.'

She stopped, fingers tangled in her hair, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh, my God!” she rushed forward, her bare feet slipping and sliding over the glassy snow-covered surface. “Where… where are you?” She thought that someone had fallen through and needed rescue, so she was confused when she saw no hole, no cracks, no flailing arms- nothing but snow as far as the eye could see. “I can’t find you!”

'I am here.'

A bright shaft of pink light suddenly burst from the lake and into the air next to her, making her fall to the ground.

'Save me…'

She scrambled to her knees as fast as she could and started brushing away the snow, her mind whirling with images of a pale woman holding her breath and pounding with her fists on the underside of the ice. Instead, what she saw made her doubt her own sanity. “What he hell…”

There, encased in the ice directly under the surface was a beautiful woman. She was totally frozen and inanimate. He long curly white hair hung in waves over her shoulders and ended at the waist of her shiny iridescent silver gown. Around her neck she wore a thin silver chain and a snowflake pendant that sparkled like glitter and diamonds.

There were tiny particles of ice and snow on her long lashes that perfectly set off the ice-blue color of her eyes, which were unblinking, staring straight up at the harsh gray sky. Her slender, pale fingers were laced together on her chest as if prepared for the grave, and her feet were clad in shoes that seemed to be made of opaque glass.

“Wh… who are you?”

'I am Skadi, Goddess of Winter.'

She flinched, realizing that the ruby-red lips of the woman did not move, but that she was still hearing her voice inside of her head as if by telepathy. “What is this place?” she asked, motioning with her hand. For the first time, she noticed that it was no longer snowing and the wind was now dead-silent.

'This is my prison. The Heart of Winter.'

“Do you mean that we are inside of the Heart?” The thought was very disturbing. Did it just suck you in with no warning? “How did you- we get inside?”

'I was placed here by my husband, the God Ull,. He thought this icy prison a fit punishment for my crimes.'

“Crimes?” Hermione asked. “What could you have possibly done to deserve such a fate?”

'That is not neither here nor there. My crimes are not what are important. Just know that I am innocent of all charges. I was falsely accused, condemned without trial and brought to this place to remain frozen for all eternity because of a jealous God!'

Something in Skadi’s voice made the hair on the back of Hermione’s neck stand up. Maybe it was that slight hint of anger at the end of her explanation. She was a good judge of character, and could instinctively know when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful. This Goddess of Winter was either flat out lying or painting over the real story with a fine brush of half-truths. “What exactly is The Heart? Where did it come from?”

'The Heart of Winter was crafted by the three Goddesses of Destiny. It was meant to be a thing of beauty, a treasure capable powerful magic that was to be shared equally by the three of them- and it was that way for a long time, until one grew greedy and tried to steal the Heart for herself. The other two turned the magical orb into a prison and trapped her inside.'

Hermione looked around at the desolate landscape, the snow was beginning to fall again, wet and heavy this time. It was clumping in her hair, soaking it. “Where is she now?”

'She is gone.'

“Gone where?”

'She has ceased to exist. She languished and died a very long time ago, before I came to be here.'

Hermione digested this. “I thought Gods couldn’t die?"

'We are meant to be immortal, but there have always been ways for us to die. She, unlike me, gave up on life. I wish to live, to be free, and that is why I called to you-to save me from certain death in this icy grave.'

Hermione brushed the wet snow from her head and looked down at her self. She had forgotten that she was sitting on the ice, and somehow the snow had piled up around, her burying her legs. She pushed it away, a million thoughts rushing through her mind. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Taking her hand, she cleared away the snow from the ice and looked once more into those crystal-blue eyes.

“Why me? Draco was the one who sto… found the Heart. Why am I here and not him?”

'The Heart of winter belongs to you, and only you can use it. He has no magic left and can no longer be witness to its true power. The Heart of Winter has chosen you over him.'

“That’s not true. He used it- I saw him!” There was no way she was believing what this woman said. This entire situation was ludicrous.

'When he held the orb in his hands, it saw the images of you that haunt his very soul, and it recognized you. I do not know why…'

“I don’t understand any of this!” She stood up, the wind whipping her hair around her face, her teary eyes glaring down at the beautiful Goddess through the clear, glassy ice. “Why did the Heart steal Draco’s magic? What is the purpose of all of this?”

'The purpose is for you to use the power of the Heart to free me from the ice, so that I may once again be free!'

The pink light grew brighter, and Hermione could see what seemed to be glitter floating and swirling in the light. It was so pretty that she forgot herself for a second. Tearing her eyes away from the rosy glow, she looked down at the Goddess. She was put here for a reason, a reason she refused to elaborate on, and that usually meant it was something horrible. How could she free this woman without knowing what exactly she was capable of? She could be a stark raving lunatic for all she knew! “What if I refuse to set you free?”

Hermione heard Skadi laugh. It rang through her head like tiny chimes vibrating off her skull.

'I thought you might not agree, and so I made sure that you would have no choice but to carry out my wishes.'

Hermione was suddenly very cold, her feet were stinging and her flesh was breaking out in goose bumps. She wrapped her robe tightly around her and tried not to shiver. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “What have you done?” Her heart was already pounding in her chest, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer.

'It was I who stole his magic. Sucked it from his very being, and now it resides in me. Every time he held the Heart, he gave more and more of himself to me until there was no more to give. We are one, he and I.'

There was more laughter, but this time it was the low guttural sound of an insane person.

'I am dying Hermione, and if you do not find a way to save me- if you refuse to use the power to free me from this hell- I can promise you that HE will also die!'


	11. 11

  
Author's notes: Hermione must tell Draco that is life is in danger and it's up to her to save him.  


* * *

Hermione heard Skadi laugh. It rang through her head like tiny chimes vibrating off her skull.

'I thought you might not agree, and so I made sure that you would have no choice but to carry out my wishes.'

Hermione was suddenly very cold, her feet were stinging and her flesh was breaking out in goose bumps. She wrapped her robe tightly around her and tried not to shiver. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “What have you done?” Her heart was already pounding in her chest, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer.

'It was I who stole his magic. Sucked it from his very being, and now it resides in me. Every time he held the Heart, he gave more and more of himself to me until there was no more to give. We are one, he and I.'

There was more laughter, but this time it was the low guttural sound of an insane person.

'I am dying Hermione, and if you do not find a way to save me- if you refuse to use the power to free me from this hell- I can promise you that HE will also die!'

.........................

She heard his voice from far away; low at first and then louder and louder, like she was running toward him down a very long tunnel. “Hermione! Oh, my God…” Louder now, “What the hell? Granger!” Louder still, “For Merlin’s sake let go of it! It’s going to kill you!”

She was being shaken. She could feel her head snapping back and forth on her neck like a flower in a hurricane force wind, but for some reason, she just couldn’t let go of the orb. It was as if it was fused to her hand, like it had become an extension of her arm. She was trapped in between the real world and the one that was The Heart of Winter.

Her eyes were open, but she saw only blinding snow and felt only the stinging cold of the bitter winter wind. She turned in a circle, trying as hard as she could to find the way out, but the snow was so thick that she couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face.

 

Complete and total panic set in, racing through her veins and making her feel as if she was losing her mind. She could no longer hear Draco’s voice and that more than anything made her sick with desperation.

Knowing that she had to do something, anything, instead of just standing there freezing to death, she shuffled her feet forward, her arms stretched out in front of her. The wind howled in her ears, rendering her deaf as well as blind as she fumbled forward, tears of terror freezing to her cheeks and eyelashes.

She wasn’t able to hear the sound of the cracking ice, and was unprepared when it gave out under her and she fell, plunging into the frigid water. The shock of the cold took her breath away and her body almost instantly became numb, but then it was replaced by comforting warmth. It started at her toes, and worked its way up until she felt cozy and safe.

…………………………………….

Draco’s eyes snapped open, and he was immediately disoriented. The room was dark and the ghostly light that was floating in from the hallway was casting shadows on unfamiliar furnishings. “Where the hell am I?” he asked to the empty room, “and what the hell is that weird glowing?” He turned his head towards the door, thinking that the strange light resembled blue flames licking at the walls. It looked very familiar…

Suddenly, his eyes popped open as wide as they could get, he clenched the sheets in his hands and the sound of his heart beating filled his ears. “Granger!” he yelled and jumped from the bed, racing down the steps and sliding to a halt in front of the door to the study. His stomach did a flip flop when he saw her standing there, the orb held tightly in her hand, her face blank and her body shivering as if she were cold. “Hermione! Oh, my God!”

Rushing forward, he grabbed her hand, trying with all his might to pull her fingers away from the glass sphere, but they wouldn’t budge; it was as if they were glued to the surface. “What the hell?” he said as the light turned a bright, blinding, pink and Hermione stiffened, her shivering stopped, and she just stared straight ahead as if in a trance. “Granger!” he yelled, snapping his finger in front of her face and not even receiving the blink of an eye for a response. He then started to shake her, trying to get her to come out of it. “For Merlin’s sake, let go of it! It’s going to kill you!”

He did what he could, wrapping his arms around her and just holding her, silently begging her to come back from whatever awful place she was trapped in. When she began to tremble fiercely, he held her tighter. When her skin suddenly turned ice-cold and blue and she passed out, the orb falling from her fingers and rolling across the floor, he lifted her up and rushed her into the living room, laying her in front of the fire and then rushed back upstairs. Racing into the bedroom, he snatched all the covers from the bed and brought them downstairs.

“Come on, love,” he said, kneeling next to her while wrapping her up in the blankets. Her lips were blue and she was barely breathing. “Don’t do this,” he begged, picking her up and cradling her in his lap. “Please, baby, be all right.” He kissed her face and was shocked at how cold it was to the touch. He held her in his comforting arms, the blazing fire warming them. Every so often he would check that she was still breathing, and was always relieved to find that she was. Slowly her color came back and her stillness was replaced with an uncontrollable shivering.

It was well past noon when she came to.

………………………..

He had fallen asleep, his back against the sofa, Hermione still in his arms. She slowly opened her eyes, and as her vision cleared, the first thing she saw was his peaceful, handsome, face. Untangling her hand from the blankets, she caressed his stubbly cheek, loving the prickly feeling under her fingertips. The love she felt for him at that moment was so strong, so complete, that it was almost impossible to fathom. “Draco,” she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open he smiled at her. “You’re awake,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back.”

“Coming back?” she asked, confused.

“From where ever you were when you were holding the Heart…” he said, concern growing on his tired face. “You do remember what happened, don’t you?” He adjusted his position as she sat up, the blankets falling from her shoulders. “I woke up and found you down here holding that orb. You were in some kind of trance or something. I tried to shake you awake, but it didn’t work; finally you just collapsed and started shivering like you were freezing.”

Hermione’s heart immediately began to pound in her chest, and her breathing became agitated as the memories came flooding back. 

“Oh, my God!” she said, clutching her throat. She scrambled from his lap and stood, looking down at him, not knowing how she was supposed to tell him what she had learned.

“Hermione, what is it?” he asked. She was frightening him; the way she was acting like she was on the verge of a panic attack and the way she was looking at him like he was a calf being led to the slaughter unnerved him.

“I…” She started and then stopped. “She…”

“What?” he said, getting to his feet. “You look scared out of your mind. Tell me what’s wrong!”

How do you tell someone they're going to die? Do you just come out and say it, or do you sit them down over a nice cup of tea and then spring it on them in the middle of a discussion about the lovely pattern on the new china? “I think you should sit down,” she said, motioning towards the sofa. “What I have to tell you is not going to be easy.”

“It’s that bad?” he asked, taking a seat. He was both curious and repelled by hearing what she had to say. She started to pace the floor, wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip, his eyes following her every step, wondering just the hell had happened to her. “When you touched the orb, you saw something, didn’t you? Something so horrible that…”

“I didn’t see anything, Draco, I went somewhere.” She stopped and closed her eyes as if seeing the blackness behind her lids was going to somehow give her the courage to go on. 

“What do you mean, you went somewhere?” he asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his fingers in a pyramid under his chin. He looked up at her, eager for her explanation. “You didn’t go anywhere; you were standing there, in the study. You never left the house!”

“I meant that my mind left!” 

“Did it come back?” Draco said with a smirk.

Hermione just frowned down at him. Here she was, about to tell him that his life depended on her finding a way to free an ancient Goddess from an icy grave, and he was trying to be funny! 

He wiggled his eyebrows wickedly, and suddenly reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into his lap. “Come on now! It can’t be all that bad!” he said. “You survived unharmed, and I’m here…” He nuzzled her neck. “What more could you want?”

He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away. “Damn it, Draco! We don’t have time for this!”

“There’s always time for… this,” he said, reaching between her legs. He received a slap in the face for his wandering hands- although a light one. “Ow! What the hell?”

She jumped from his lap and with mounting anger, just came out and told him. “I went inside the Heart where it was snowing and windy, but I didn’t feel cold, and then I heard this voice calling to me- a woman’s voice- saying she needed help. I finally found her but she was trapped under a frozen lake and there was no way for me to get her out and then I asked her who she was and she told me she was Skadi and that the orb chose me as its owner…” 

 

“Whoa! Slow down,” Draco said, holding his hands out. “Skadi? You mean the Goddess? She’s inside the Heart of Winter? Why? How did she get there, and what do you mean it chose you as its owner?”  
Hermione lost her train of thought when he so rudely interrupted. 

“Huh?” she said, confused for a second. “Oh, well she was imprisoned there by her husband and she says she’s innocent of whatever crime she was accused of, but I don’t believe her at all.”

“And the orb? Why did it choose you?” He wanted to say ‘and not me’ but stopped himself, not wanting to sound petty.

“Are you jealous that it didn’t choose you?” she asked, incredulously. “Because let me tell you…”

Draco interrupted with a question. “Forget the Heart for now, did you tell Skadi you would help her?”

Hermione stopped her ranting and just looked at him.

“Well? Aren’t you going to answer me? Did you promise you would rescue her? Is that why you’re so worked up?” He prayed that’s all it was. “Because I’ll help you, you know.” He noticed that she was wringing her hands again, and that tears were welling up in her eyes. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Draco!” she wailed, launching herself on top of him. “She’s… well, she’s a crazy bitch! She said that it wasn’t the Heart that sucked your magic from you, it was her and now you are both linked together and… and she’s dying.” As she said the last word, she hoped it sunk in. She hoped she didn’t have to tell him that he-

“I’m going to die when she dies, is that right?” he said, licking his chapped lips. His throat was closing and all the spit in his mouth had suddenly dried up. The sad look on Hermione’s face was answer enough. “How long do I have?”

“Draco, listen to me!” she begged. “There is a way to save you. She said that she’s dying because she’s been trapped under the ice for so long and that if I find a way to release her, then the both of you will live, but if I don’t succeed…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I guess that because the Heart has chosen me, I’m the only one who can use its power to free her- and save you.”

Draco was silent, taking it all in. It was almost too much for him to wrap his mind around. “So, Skadi is basically blackmailing you. She knows how much we love each other, and is using that as a weapon. She took my magic, and now she has a part of me and what happens to one of us, happens to the other. Is this right?”

Hermione only nodded her head. He was so calm about it all and this more than anything scared the shit out of her. She had expected him to throw a fit, to rant and rave about not wanting to die, but here he sat, as calm as could be- it was so un-Malfoy like.

“Do you believe this Goddess is evil? That if we released her, she would to terrible things?” he asked her, linking his hand through hers and squeezing. “Because if you do, then there is no way you should set her free.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just let you die, because I won’t,” she said, tears spilling down her face. “I’ve just gotten you back and I won’t lose you again!”

“Death seems to always come at an importune time, doesn’t it?” he tried to joke, but failed miserably. “Look, Granger, I really don’t want to die, but it seems to be unavoidable.”

“It is not!” she snapped. “I refuse to give up. There has to be some way to use the Heart of Winter to kill her but save you in the process.” She stood up, squared her shoulders and prepared for battle. “I’ve faced worse and come out on top, I can do this. I can figure out a way to save you.”

Draco, who had seen that look of total determination on her face before, thought how utterly courageous and bull-headed this tiny woman was. She never backed down from a challenge and it made him love her even more. “We can figure out a way,” he said. “We’re in this together and whether you want my help or not, you’ve got it. You have no choice.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “The first thing I need to do is get to the Ministry Archives to research this Skadi and the Heart of Winter. You’ll have to stay here of course…”

Draco jumped swiftly to his feet, making Hermione almost fall over in surprise. “I am not going to stay here and let you go traipsing about when there are two crazy fuckers running around looking for us. What if they kill you?”

Hermione regained her composure. “They are after you, not me. They have no idea where you are and that I now have the orb, do they?” She was ready for a fight, and it showed in her stance and in the way her eyes positively crackled with anger. “People are looking for you, Malfoy. Ron and the rest of the Aurors know you’ve stolen something and they’re hunting you like a dog as we speak!”

“I can handle Weasley,” Draco said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure you can, but what about the other fifty Aurors that are with him, have you forgotten about them? You’re not going and that’s final. I need you to stay here and look through the books I have. See if you can find anything useful.” She turned at went over to the fireplace. “I’m not sure if the Floo is up and running, but that’s the only way to get to the Ministry. No one can Apparate inside for security reasons…”

“Hermione…”

She turned, a handful of Floo powder slipping through her fingers. “I won’t be long, I promise. I’ve been in the Archives millions of times and I know exactly where to look.”

He came to her and slipped his arms around her, embracing her tightly. “Be careful.”

She closed her eyes, her head resting on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. It was strong, but for how long? How much time did he have before it began to slow and then stop altogether? Would he languish for weeks or even months on the verge of death or would his light just one day blow out like a candle? She was determined to not find out the answer. She was going to save him, and that was that. There was no other option. “I love you," she whispered, tears beginning to flow again.

“I love you too,” he said, and reluctantly let go. He watched her throw in the powder and step into the flames. “I’ll see you soon. Remember to be careful.” She blew him a kiss, said her destination and then was gone, leaving Draco to ponder life, love, and destiny in the stillness of the empty house.


	12. 12

  
Author's notes: Hermione takes a trip to the archives and Draco makes her a gift.  


* * *

She turned, a handful of Floo powder slipping through her fingers. "I won’t be long, I promise. I’ve been in the Archives millions of times and I know exactly where to look."

He came to her and slipped his arms around her, embracing her tightly. "Be careful."

She closed her eyes, her head resting on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. It was strong, but for how long? How much time did he have before it began to slow and then stop altogether? Would he languish for weeks or even months on the verge of death or would his light just one day blow out like a candle? She was determined to not find out the answer. She was going to save him, and that was that. There was no other option. "I love you," she whispered, tears beginning to flow again.

"I love you too," he said, and reluctantly let go. He watched her throw in the powder and step into the flames. "I’ll see you soon. Remember to be careful." She blew him a kiss, said her destination and then was gone, leaving Draco to ponder life, love, and destiny in the stillness of the empty house.

Hermione exited the fireplace, quickly made her way down the deserted halls and got into the elevator. Praying that she wouldn’t run into anyone, she was relieved when it let her off on her floor without mishap. 

The only sound was her footsteps as she walked swiftly towards her office, looking behind her every once in a while to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Turning the corner, she came to a door with her name plaque on it, pulled out her wand, unlocked it, and then silently closed it behind her. It was pitch-dark inside and instead of turning on the lights, she simply lit the tip of her wand. 

Her desk loomed like a giant black mass in the corner. She headed towards it, the sound of her breathing heavy in her ears. Pulling open a drawer, she took out her old briefcase and removed the contents, tossing the paperwork onto the desktop. This would make a perfect carrying case for the scrolls she was about to pilfer from the Archives. If she did indeed encounter anyone, they wouldn’t think it suspicious that she was carrying a briefcase. 

Closing it, she stopped and listened for a second before slipping from the office and heading back to the elevator. The Archives were deep below the Ministry and it felt like forever before it stopped and let her off. It was a cavernous room carved right into the rock, lined with shelves of books from floor to ceiling. 

This was one of her most favorite places on Earth. She loved the smell of the ancient dust, and the mysterious atmosphere that hung about the room like a shroud. She had spent many days and nights in here, devouring everything in sight. Pouring over the contents of anything she could get her hands on; it was the only way she could keep her mind off of Draco. 

In the far corner, in a hidden room, was a glass case in which were kept the oldest and most fragile scrolls. It was to this case that Hermione went. Luckily for her, she was one of the few people who had access to the secrets that lie within. 

Opening the lock on the case with her wand, she scanned the shelves until she found what she was looking for. There was a reason the whole Skadi/Heart of Winter sounded familiar to her; she had come across them in her reading. Carefully lifting the yellowed and crumbling parchments from the shelf, she tenderly carried them to the nearest table and went to work opening them. They were very delicate and the writing was so faded that it was almost unreadable. 

After making sure she had the correct ones, she put them in her briefcase and exited the room, making sure to leave the room looking undisturbed. 

"Miss Granger!" 

Hermione jumped out of her skin and clutched her heart. She slowly turned around, her worst fears realized. Standing before her was Kingsley Shaklebolt, the Minister of Magic. "M… Minister!" she sputtered. "I… I didn’t know anyone else was here." 

"Neither did I," he said. "I thought the storm would keep everyone at home, but I should have known that a little bit of snow wouldn’t keep you away from work!" He chuckled because it was common knowledge that Hermione was a workaholic. "How did you manage to use the Floo network? I thought it was down?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You haven’t been here the whole time, have you?" 

Hermione’s mind was going at breakneck speed, trying to make a believable story. "I was at home, and Ron contacted me and told me that the Floo was going to probably be down because of the storm and… I suddenly remembered that I had this report that needed to be done and that I didn’t have the proper research materials." 

Kinglsey looked over her shoulder at the door that now resembled just another part of the wall. "I see you’ve been in the hidden room. Find anything useful for your report?" He could not see how anything in that room could have pertained to any research she was doing for work. She was acting rather peculiar and although he was now Minister, his Auror training was still heavily embedded in his being. He was suspicious of everyone and everything and trusted his gut to tell him when something was not quit right- and this was one of those times. 

Hermione was panicking. She needed to get back home and figure out a way to save Draco. There was no time to stand here and fucking jibber jabber with the Minister. "I was just…" She had no idea what to say. Kinglsey was standing there, looking at her in that way that always made her feel guilty even when she wasn’t. 

"Taking papers home?" Kingsley asked, noticing her briefcase. 

Hermione knew this was the end. She was finished. He was going to take the briefcase from her, discover that she was stealing manuscripts, and not only would he take them back, but he would probably fire her as well. "No," she said. "I was going to check out some books and use this to carry them in." 

"Oh," he said. "What kind of books?" 

What the hell was this? The Inquisition? She thought quickly and came up with a story. "I needed some information pertaining to the upcoming case with the vampire who’s been accused of trying to make an army of the undead to take over the world." 

"I’d almost forgotten you were trying that case," Kinglsey said. "Did you need me to help you find…" 

"No," she just about screamed. Realizing that she had shouted at the leader of the Wizarding world, who after all, was just trying to help, she quickly changed her tone. "Thank you, but I know exactly where to find what I need," she said, politely. "Have you forgotten who you’re talking to, Minister? It’s me, Hermione Granger. I live in the Archives, remember?" she added with a laugh. 

"Even so, I think I’ll walk with you." He was taken aback by her strange behavior. The woman was definitely up to something, but what? "Did you say you had spoken to Ron Weasley?" he asked her as they strolled past the aisles. 

"Yes, earlier," she said. She just wanted to bolt; knock him over and make a run for it. Time was dwindling down, and images of Draco lying on the floor of her kitchen dead with his tongue lolling out of his mouth kept popping into her mind. She wondered if he was dead already and if he wasn’t, what exactly was he doing? 

After Hermione left, Draco sat down on the sofa for a bit, letting everything sink in. This was entirely his fault. He just couldn’t have left the damn orb where it was… he had to play macho and steal it. Now he was being pursued by two crazy Russians, he was magic-less, and was being blackmailed by a frozen bint inside a glass sphere who wanted to kill him. Although he was putting on a courageous face on front of the woman he loved, he was scared shitless inside. He didn’t want to die! He had to trust Hermione to find an answer to their problem; after all, if she couldn’t then no one could. 

He got up and walked around the room, picking up various pictures and frowning at them. Weasley was in almost every one of them, smiling like a dork. The very sight of his face made him want to punch a hole in the wall. To think all this time Hermione had been sleeping with the weasel; letting him kiss her and touch her… it made him sick to even think about them having sex. 

"You won’t be touching her anymore, you fucking red-headed freak," he said to Ron in the photo. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Weasley’s face when he found out his and Hermione’s secret. Sitting the frame face down on the table, he set about searching the rest of the house. He was curious about her life- not having been a part of it for so long. 

In the kitchen, he messed around with the appliances, never having seen any of them before. He was really amazed by the toaster; pushing the lever down and making it pop back up. Too bad the electricity wasn’t working, he’d have loved to see what it did. After glancing in the well-stocked cupboards, he made his way up stairs. 

Pausing in the doorway of the spare room, he happened to glance at the window and was shocked to see that some of the snow had receded; it wasn’t melting, it was just disappearing. Maybe it was because the Heart wasn’t being used? He had no idea; all he knew was that with the snow leaving, there was a good chance the Russians would come calling- or even worse, Weasley would be showing up in person. 

After looking through the dresser drawers that contained nothing but extra towels, sheets and blankets and peeking into the closet where only her summer clothing was hanging, he left and went down the hall to her bedroom. His eyes lingered on the bed where they had been lying next to each other and he smiled. If he had his way, they would be spending every night there together. Now that he had her, he planned on never letting her go… unless he died. Trying to remove that thought from his mind, he went to her closet and looked in. 

Everything was color coordinated, pressed, starched, labeled and organized. "How typical!" he said, laughing. He searched through her neatly folded drawers, pausing to take out some sexy, black lacy knickers from the top one. He closed his eyes, imagining her slowly removing them; how they would slide smoothly over her tender skin. She’d step out of them, one black, stiletto- heeled foot at a time, and with a devilish grin, toss them to the floor as she walked towards him, her eyes burning with desire. 

He sighed, wishing she were here right now so he could make his fantasy a reality. He stuck the knickers into his pocket and just as he was about to shut the drawer, he noticed the corner of a red leather bound book sticking out. Lifting it, he saw that it was a diary. 

Standing there holding it in his hand, he was torn between respecting her privacy and devouring the pages as his curiosity wanted him too. It had no locking mechanism, but she had probably placed some kind of charm on it. He opened the cover just to see what would happen, and when nothing did, he was seriously tempted to flip a few more pages. 

‘She won’t even know! A tiny peek won’t hurt anything,’ His bad side said. ‘It’s none of your business. These are her private thoughts. Don’t do it! She’ll never forgive you if you do!’ his conscience pleaded. Draco closed his eyes and gathered all the will power he had. ‘You can do it. Just put it back, close the drawer, and walk away. It’s as simple as that…’ 

He slowly and longingly placed it back in the dresser drawer and then shut it as fast as he could. He was proud of himself and wore a big grin as he left the room- only to turn around a second later and rush back in. He wrenched the drawer open, snatched up the diary, and flipped to the middle. 

June 30th

Ron just left. We had a huge row and he accused me of being in love with someone else. Of course I am, but he doesn’t need to know that. I think I managed to calm him down and make him believe that it’s all in his head. I guess I said something in my sleep last night that made him suspicious. He refuses to tell me what it was I supposedly said, but I can only imagine!

July 15

I’ve been finding myself thinking about D. constantly to the point where I lock myself in my room and cry for hours remembering how it felt to kiss him. I would give anything to just feel his lips on mine one more time…

August 1st

I hate Ron! I wish he would die. I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to love him before I just come right out and tell him everything! The very sound of his stupid voice makes me cringe. I hate the way he laughs, I hate the way he looks and I hate the way he touches me. Most of all, I hate the fact that he is not D.!

September 26th

Woke up this morning crying. I had the most vivid, wonderful dream last night. I was back at Hogwarts and I was standing beside the frozen Black Lake and snow was falling. He was standing behind me, his arms around me tightly, keeping me warm. I could feel his body pressed against mine, smell his cologne, and he whispered that he loved me… I can’t even bear to think about it! I miss him so much. I just wi

The ink was smeared because her tears had fallen onto the paper and he couldn’t read the rest, but he was sure it said that she wished it hadn’t been a dream. How many times over the years had he himself wished for the very same thing; to hold her, to touch her and tell her that he loved her? It was a shame that all this time they had been longing for the same thing and neither was aware of it. 

He flipped towards the back of the diary and read the last entry. 

December 23

I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas! The weather seems to be cooperating; it’s been snowing all day. Nothing as pretty as a white Christmas, is there? Ron left earlier, he said he, Harry and the rest of the Aurors had something important to do. He was very mysterious about it all and it makes me wonder what’s going on.

On a more important note, I’ve finally made up my mind to stay with him. Even though my heart will always belong to D., I’ve realized that he and I were never meant to be and I’ve got to move on. I know it won’t be easy, but I refuse to spend the rest of my life pining for him when he’s probably forgotten all about me and is right now lying in the arms of another woman.

Draco smirked and closed the book. So, just yesterday she was intending on forgetting about him and staying with the weasel. My, how things change in a day! He placed the diary back under her unmentionables and slid the drawer shut. ‘December 23rd’, he thought. ‘That means today is Christmas Eve.’ 

Walking down the hall towards the stairs, he noticed a string hanging from the ceiling. He could tell it was some sort of way into the attic, but having never encountered such a thing before, he was beyond curious. It was pretty high, so he jumped and the second he pulled it, the trap door opened and the stairs came sliding down at break-neck speed; he narrowly missed being decapitated. 

Slowly, he walked up the steps and found himself in a fairly large, dark room. The ceiling was so low that he had to walk around almost bent in half, and it was crammed with boxes and- big shock- books. Dim sunshine was streaming in from a small circular window, giving enough light for him to make out the titles of a few of them. "How to Embrace Your Inner Sex Demon," he read and tossed it aside. "Ten Ways to Improve Your Love Life. Mrs. Simmons and the Naughty Pool Boy. She must keep all her porn up here in the attic!" he said, laughing. He sat them on top of a box, accidentally knocking it over and spilling the contents. There were red and green glass bulbs rolling everywhere and he tripped over a string of tangled lights as he set out after them. 

As he bent to pick up the Christmas ornaments, his eye fell on another, taller box in the dark corner. "Why how utterly un- English of you, Granger!" he said with a grin. 

Yuri could here the woman screaming from behind the locked bedroom door. He could only imagine what Dmitri was doing to her and it sickened him. The husband had been tied up, gagged, beaten, and thrown down the basement stairs. Yuri wasn’t even sure the man was still alive. 

"Oh, God! Please! Please just let me go…" the woman begged. Yuri covered his ears and went into the living room. Looking around to make sure Dmitri was still occupied and not spying on him, he took a handful of Floo Powder from his pocket and tossed it into the flames. Kneeling down, he whispered into the flames. Almost immediately someone answered. 

"Yuri! How are y…" 

"Please, I don’t have much time. Dmitri has gone mad! He’s torturing and murdering innocent Muggles right here in their own home!" There was a blood curdling scream and Yuri glanced over his shoulder, sweating profusely and twitching anxiously. "We have taken refuge in the house next door and we are almost positive that he is with the girl. We saw her drag him inside before the storm hit." 

"You’re sure that he’s with her? Why didn’t you just apprehend him then?" 

"Dmitri wouldn’t allow it!" Yuri said almost whining. "And what was I supposed to do? Blow my cover? I’ve been working under cover for years now and you would have me ruin everything just to apprehend the Malfoy boy?" 

"Have you forgotten that it’s not him we are after, Yuri? He has in his possession a magical weapon capable of wiping every living creature from the face of the planet and he doesn’t even realize what he has. We must get that orb, and above all, we must protect them." 

"What about Dmitri? What about the Black Lord?" Yuri asked. "Are we to just toss that case to the side to protect an arrogant treasure hunter and his girlfriend?" 

"Yuri, the cases are intertwined. Just do your job. Go along with Dmitri and make sure you play the part. Make him think you want that Heart of Winter for the Black Lord as much as he does." 

"But…" 

"Yuri, trust me. We have a plan. Nothing will happen to you or to them. I can’t let it happen, Ron would never forgive me." 

"Does he know that he is with her?" 

"Not yet. The time isn’t right. If I tell him too soon, he’ll rush right there and blow the whole operation and we’ve worked so hard and come too far to have his stupid temper ruin everything," Harry said from the flames. "I’m not looking forward to telling him. I’ve kept their past from him all this time and I’m sure he’s not going to forgive me very easily." 

Yuri suddenly realized that it was way too quiet and that couldn’t be good. "Potter, I have to go! I’ll keep in touch!" he said quickly and stood up. He listened closely and sure enough, he heard Dmitri’s heavy footsteps coming towards the room. He got a hold of himself, calmed his nerves and walked towards him. 

"Yuri! Where the fuck have you been?" Dmitri asked, punching him in the arm harder than necessary. "You missed all the fun. I gave that Muggle bitch the time of her life!" 

"I’m sure you did, you sick fuck," Yuri said under his breath. "Is she still alive?" 

"Who the hell cares?" Dmitri said with a maniacal laugh. "She was just a Muggle!" He zipped up his pants and adjusted his balls. He saw Yuri looking at him with disgust and it found it amusing. "That was just an appetizer, Yuri. Wait until we get into that house next door. That tasty little morsel will be the main course! Oh the things I’m going to do to her…" 

"Did Ron happen to mention anything about Draco Malfoy when he talked to you?" Kingsley asked as he and Hermione stopped in front of the Vampire section. He noticed Hermione flinched and she seemed to be shocked. 

"N…no," she answered. All the spit had dried up in her mouth and it was hard to speak. "Why would he mention Malfoy?" she turned and pretended to scan the shelves looking for the book she needed. 

"Well, since you and Ron are so close I was sure he would have told you that Draco is a wanted man. He’s on the run and has something dangerous in his possession. I’m sure Ron would have warned you- you know, for your own protection." 

"Why in the world would I need to fear Draco Malfoy?" Hermione said with a tinkling laugh. "I’ve never seen a more cowardly man in my life! Plus, I haven’t seen him in years." Was her face bright red? It had to be because it felt like it was on fire. She was never good at lying, that was Ginny’s department. 

Kinsley watched her take a book down from the shelf and noticed she was blushing. She was definitely nervous and hiding something. "It’s not Draco himself that you need to fear, Hermione, it’s the object he has stolen that you need to be cautious of- The Heart of Winter. It has powers beyond anything you can imagine." 

She could imagine. "I’ve never heard of it, but I’m sure Ron and Harry are doing their best to find him, and you know as well as I do that their hatred for him is probably making them work ten times as hard." 

"I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going on," Kinglsey said. "If anyone knows the hatred between those two and Draco, then we certainly do, don’t we?" 

Hermione opened her briefcase, making sure it was turned so that the Minister didn’t see the scrolls. Gently placing the book she really didn’t need inside, she closed it and smiled up at him. "I want to thank you for keeping me company, Minister, but I need to be getting back home if I’m to finish this report on time." 

"I’ll walk you out." 

Hermione knew it was a waste of time to refuse him, so she let it slide. "That would be nice, Minister." 

As soon as Kinglsey saw Hermione safely off, he went straight to his office and try to contact Harry. The Floo was acting up again and he couldn’t get though. "Damn it!" he said. "It was working fine when she left only a few minutes ago!" He sat back in his swivel chair, his fingers under his chin, thoughtful. There was something going on and he was certain it concerned Hermione and Draco Malfoy. She had said that she had never heard of the Heart of Winter, but he knew for a fact that those scrolls she just stole pertained to that specific legend. 

He had just left the secret room when she came into the Archives. Hiding behind the shelves, he had seen her enter and take them. How curious that she had stolen the very items he himself had been reading only minutes before! "What could she want with them?" he asked himself out loud. The obvious answer was she knew where Draco was, maybe she was even hiding him, and she needed to know everything about the Heart. But that was crazy! She hated Draco… just like her friends. Why would she risk her own life to protect him? It was all very curious and as soon as the damn Floo was up again, he was going to find out! 

As soon as Hermione was home, she placed the briefcase on the table and yelled for Draco. She was sure he would be waiting right at the fireplace for her when she came back, and when he wasn’t, she panicked. "Draco!" Not in the kitchen. "Are you here?" Not in the bathroom. "Damn it! Draco?" She walked into her study and saw him. "Oh my God!" He was lying on the sofa. His arm was thrown over his eyes and his skin was deathly pale. ‘He’s dead! I’m too late!’ she thought. 

She ran over and fell to the floor next to the sofa. "Draco!" He looked as if he wasn’t breathing and as she lifted his arm to take his pulse, he jumped and his eyes flew open. 

"What?" he asked, a little disoriented. "Hermione? When did you get back?" He tried to sit up but she had thrown herself on top of him and was crying hysterically. "What the hell are you crying about?" 

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" she wailed. 

"Not yet," he said and she looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "I was just tired and needed a nap. I feel fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head about me." 

"Tired?" she asked. "Tired from what?" She couldn’t imagine what he’d been up to to make him look so exhausted. There were blackish-purple smears under his eyes, his hair was rumpled and he just looked… well… like shit. 

"In case you haven’t noticed, I went up to the attic, drug your fake-ass Christmas tree down, spent an eternity trying to figure out how to put the damn thing together, went back to the attic and brought down boxes and boxes of lights and ornaments…" 

Hermione was astonished. There in the corner of her study was a beautifully decorated tree. He had chosen only the white or clear ornaments, had wrapped a glittery-silver ribbon around it and had even made a perfect bow on the very top of the tree. She was more than impressed, she was amazed. "It’s beautiful!" she said, sobbing again. 

"There are white lights on it, but since the electricity isn’t working, you can’t see them," he said as she walked over and admired it. He thought he did a good job considering he had never even known there was such a thing as a fake Christmas tree. "I just thought that with everything ugly that’s going on, you deserved something beautiful," he said, putting his arms around her and squeezing. 

She could picture in her mind how pretty the tree would look all lit up and sparkling like the winter sky filled with millions of twinkling stars. "Draco, I don’t even know what to say." 

"Don’t say anything. Just…" She felt him jerk as if someone had given him an electric shock, and then he was on the floor, screaming and clutching his head.


End file.
